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.

"THE CITY OF JOY" by Dominique Lapierre.

La Cite De La Joie’ is a book originally published in French as the writer himself is. Dominique Lapierre is the author who has produced more work but this is the first book of his I have come across. English edition of the book came in the market in 1999, since then it has been bought by millions of the readers in some thirty languages around the world. The fluency and the beauty of the language of the book is somewhere lost in English translation which happens to almost every translated work. Though the book is full of stories of destitute and unfortunate people living in inhuman conditions but there happiness seems to be coming out of the very compulsion of the lack of hope rather than from any glorious spirituality. If small things make Hasari Pal happy it is because he just can not dream of bigger happiness. If lepers of the Aanand Nagar are happy and content in spite of all the pain and above all the social conditioning it is because they are anyways nearing death. It is difficult for me to fathom the suggestion of the narrator that their contentment comes from a spiritual experience.

                                  If at all there is spirituality and glory it is in the deeds of Father Kovalski whose choice is such that he is among the most unfortunates of the society. Dr. Max Loeb coming to the slum to work for the poor for a span of a year and sharing their condition is glorious to me. Bondona’s heroic efforts for the poorest are amazingly beautiful but little light is thrown on her. The book starts from Hasari Pal but leaves him somewhere in the middle and focuses more on Dr. Loeb and Kovalski. Hasari Pal’s family required more light and his wife even more as she too struggled with misery at every step. The story tries to cover too many areas avoiding entering small details of any one person’s life, though a thorough account is given about pathetic condition of the slum. The Godfather of the slum, Manubai, Dr. Arthur Loeb’s visit, Ghosh couple, Amrita and many other characters are left midway without much lead. The fact that there are too many people in the slum stretches the book for five hundred pages.

                                  All this can be spared as the work is not a fictional one. It is an experience consisting of real life stories of real people struggling to find their daily means. The best part is the kind of help it has generated for the poor and downtrodden of slums and made millions of people aware of their fellow humans’ plight. As a work it deserves praise, not literary merit. It needs to be bought and read by those who are capable as half of the money goes to charity. Slums are better and beautifully described in works like SHANTARAM by Gregory David Roberts where it indeed looks like a happy place. City Of Joy is rather not a City Of Joy. As a book it earns six and half marks out of ten.

"RANGBHOOMI" by PREMCHAND

It is a satire. A satire is exaggerated most of the time. Satirical characters are always suggesting something bigger, their opinions and acts are always directed towards a greater reality. Though conversations in satirical literature come out of everyday life, their essence lies in contemporary and often darker social realities.

In “Rangbhoomi”, Premchand describes his times in a colorful way. His dissatisfaction with Raj, his lack of faith in ruling British people is quite obvious. Premchand’s pen targets the part of Indian society which had converted to Christianity in order to become either favored ones of the ruling white class or to become a part of the same if possible. Eeshwar Sewak is one such character whose understanding of himself is of a devout Christian but his characteristics are of a greedy human being who does not mind supporting wrong ways to earn wealth. His daughter in law Mrs. John Sewak too is a superstitious woman who is ready to sacrifice her daughter Sofia to serve her understanding of Christianity. In portraying people of Pandepur Premchand uncovers lack of integrity, inherent greed and selfishness of contemporary Indian society. Condition of Subhagi who is beaten day and night by her husband Bhairo, Indu Rani’s suffocation even after being a queen are clearly suggesting to pitiful condition of Indian women in those times which have not lost their relevance even today. Maharana of Udaipur though appears shortly, leaves the impression of exaggeration which is so typical of satire. The light thrown on his hypocritical character along with Eeshwar sewak is so bright that it reaches to the level of irritating the reader. Premchand could have downplayed a bit.

Other trouble with the novel is ever confused characters of Sofia and Vinay Singh, who meet several times, love each other more than one can, condemn each other most harshly for their actions and it all becomes unbelievable after a point. Rani Jahnavi who is Vinay Singh’s mother is another character who seems to be unrealistic. She is ready to sacrifice her son for the mother land, criticizes her husband for his opinions but teaches her daughter Indu Rani to blindly follow her husband Mahendra Kumar.

Soordas, the blind beggar holds the highest moral, is the humblest of all but does not stoop in front of any injustice and is still every inch real. He is the protagonist though he is unaware of it. Directly or indirectly he influences almost every character’s life in the novel, his deeds have that impact which mobilize masses, moves even the British, ruin families and he is unaware of it all. He is the sage, only light in darker time. Too ideal but still real. Prabhu Sewak and Kunwar Bharat Singh the father of Vinay Singh are two men who are very real. Former is a poet who can accept poverty when insulted by his father and change the course of his life when praised by the ruling class. The later is the man who accepts his moral weaknesses which are so integral to human nature and denies letting go of his wealth and stature in society.

Deriving small incidences from Tribal life, munshi Tahir’s family, Pandit Nayakram’s shrewdness, Daroga’s pride of his race Premchand tries to cover too much of his time and succeeds in most parts but the story loses in the process. Pessimism drips down from every page but those might have been pessimistic times. The book is worth 6 out of 10 marks.