If you’re like me, you’ve been fingerprinted when entering or leaving the United States as a foreigner. Then you knew that the US government had you identified by everything you ever touched in the US. Whether it be a snack bar in a supermarket or your touching your date’s face before he/she was found murdered.

Now, the anti-criminalization policies have gone one step further. Forget foreigners. If you are a suspect in a crime and are arrested, the US government has the cheek to swab your inside cheek to take a sample of your DNA to add to their database. Forget if you’re guilty or not. That is apparently immaterial.

I’m surprised that all the privacy groups who worry about Internet data gathering, browser cookies, browsing history, online search history records, etc. by Google and other software companies are keeping mum about this issue. This is your DNA we’re talking about - nothing can be more personal than that. And to let the government collect and store your DNA even if you’re innocent - what more intrusion of privacy can there be? Is that how socio-cultural issues work - the Internet makes news, conventional stuff doesn’t?

In other news, you can now (apparently) check if you suffer from bipolar disorder by ordering a test “spit kit” from Psynomics. They will test your DNA and will mail you the test results. We already have pregnancy tests for women, sugar-level tests for diabetics, and blood pressure checkers readily available even in third-world countries like India. Is technology moving diagnosis more and more from physicians to consumers? Will consumers be able to assess if they need a cardiac bypass surgery or an appendectomy by themselves? Will physician’s diagnoses become obsolete some day in the future? Something to ponder about.

Round and round
Mentally unsound
On shaky ground
Insecurity abounds

The mind whirls
Emotion swirls
Dreams unwind
Destiny unkind

One hopes
To elope
But one is bound
To one’s ground

To escape this cage
Needs an adage
No need to cry
One is born to fly

Personality is like a rose
Everyone likes it
It attracts for a couple of days
And is then thrown away

Character is like chlorophyll
Not many know about it
It’s not visible
But it sustains life on earth.

I agree with Satyajit Ray. Charulata (IMDB) is his best film. Period.

I did not have the courage to write about Charulata, because it is as if one is writing about the Mona Lisa. One is afraid, that one is not of ‘that’ level of an artistic connoisseur, and hence tends to keep mum about great art works. But since this Unquiet Mind keeps thinking about it, and the whole purpose of this blog is to keep expressing such Unquiet Thoughts, I decided to write…finally.

Ray was asked what he thought was his best film, and he answered, apparently without any hesitation, "Charulata". He further said that if he were asked to remake his films all over again, Charulata was the one film in which he would not change even a single frame. That is a big statement coming from Ray.

When Ray received the lifetime achievement award from the Oscar Academy, he was on his deathbed. And I was in tears. I cried.

There are many people like me who’ve been enamored by Ray’s magic in Apu’s Trilogy. Pather Panchali was a milestone in Indian cinema as it brought Indian cinema to the world. And shook it. I am myself a great admirer of Pather Panchali and the Apu Trilogy. But Charulata is in a class of its own. It is a study of a woman’s mind, and, a revealing study.

The first sequence is like a tutorial in film-making. No words, no dialogue, no music. Charu is alone at home and her loneliness is captured by the camera in an exquisite fashion. Observe her as she engages in mundane activities at home, how the camera follows her about the home. No music in this introductory scene, and that establishes and emphasizes the loneliness. Finally, the climax occurs when she is looking at her husband through her binoculars walking down the gallery. She puts the binoculars down, and the camera zooms out. This is the climax. At once, you know, that you’re in a treat from a cameraman’s perspective.

The storm when her brother-in-law arrives is anticipatory of the storm he is going to bring into her lonesome, albeit married, life.

When she gets emotionally involved in her brother-in-law, it is not a typical script - thanks to Tagore. The script is based on Tagore’s Nastanirh (The Broken Nest), and there are several scholarly works exploring the relationship between Tagore’s Nashtanir and Ray’s Charulata. See here, here, and here for more scholarly information on this topic. I haven’t read Tagore, so I’ll restrict myself to my responses to the film.

In spite of being a male, I find Charulata to be the greatest statement ever for a woman’s individuality. Not in the sense of feminism. No. In the sense of how a woman needs to be understood by her husband, in a marriage, and how a woman needs recognition of herself, of her creative abilities.

If one has never had a conversation with one’s lover’s eyes, without words, one need not see this film. This film is all about unspoken words. It is about expressions. The sequence of Charu on the swing is one of film-making’s greatest achievements ever. If you can communicate and converse without the need of words, you’ll understand why. One of the greatest scenes in film-making - Charu on a swing, looking at her brother-in-law on the ground writing poetry, and looking up with a thirst at a window showing a mother and child…it is one of the greatest moments in cinema. How the camera pans!

Madhabi Mukherjee was so highly regarded as Charulata…there are reports that when she used to visit Englishmen’s homes in the UK, there used to be huge posters of Charu on the walls, and she was highly embarrassed.

Look at her expressions in the film when she publishes her own story in the magazine. She hits the magazine onto Amal’s (brother-in-law’s) head and runs to the window. Look at her expressions of tears, and how she controls them. It is love, but constrained by her marriage. The way Madhabi Mukherjee conveys that, is indescribable. You need to see it to believe it.

Also observe the period setting of the film. It was the 1850s, and the furniture, the sets, the music, the costumes, and the language had to suit the period. Ray was extremely meticulous and you can see it for yourself.

The ending of the film has spawned numerous interpretations and essays. It features the first freeze shots in Indian cinema. Charu and Bhupathi’s hands are extended towards each other, but they don’t touch. This sequence of freeze shots has been hailed as a masterpiece in filmmaking. Charulata’s tryst with independence is likened to India’s struggle for independence from the Euro-American powers after the war. Where else would you find such a compelling contrast?

I think I’ve expressed about 25% of my film appreciation of Charulata above, and I’ll end here. If you’re a serious film appreciation lover, write back, and we can learn still more from each other about this great genius. Thanks for reading. Comments about other films of Ray are also, obviously, welcome!

Further Reading: Strictly Film School, Epinions.com, Slant Magazine.

Photo Credits: Parabaas

I was offline for the last two weeks. I live in a part of town (in Pune, India) that is newly developing. All the residential phone lines in our area have been down for so many days. Broadband didn’t work. Roads are dug up by any tom, dick, and harry, for whatever reason, and no one knows why. Some cables were seemingly affected, and that brought all the phone lines down. The telephone repairmen working at the spot looked either like gangsters trying to hide some loot, or a group of men squatting to urinate at a wall. This is the developing India. Sigh!

The comments and responses on this blog during and after the prolonged delays have humbled me. When I started this blog, I never knew and never expected to make so many friends or develop such a readership. I am still taken aback by the entire experience. One of my blogger friends even traced me, got my cell phone number, and called me up to ask what’s the matter, and that (s)he didn’t want to lose a friend like me. Experiences and comments like these make one realize that one is not alone in this world. There are people who care about the same things you do, who think in a similar fashion, who value similar things like you, and that the world is not such a hopeless place after all. I cannot express how humbled I am at all the emails and comments I received.

I am trying my best to put my life in order, such that I will be able to devote some more time to blogging. I have been dragged into several things on the personal front, and dealing with all of them at the same time has been a challenge. But the wonderful experience of blogging - the interaction I’ve been having with you folks - educated, intelligent, sensitive, and insightful - is a rewarding experience that I don’t wish to sacrifice. So I am myself waiting to get active in the blogosphere again. The only request is to be patient with me.

At the same time, I am also missing out on reading your wonderful blog posts. I cannot tell you how many times I think of some of your posts while sleeping at night, and either have a good laugh or empathize with your feelings, or be enriched by your knowledgeable posts. I am looking forward to getting back to reading your blogs and learning from them. You folks make life worthwhile. I mean it.

This post is not composed, orchestrated, or edited. The backspace or arrow keys haven’t been used. It is coming straight from the heart, as they say, and there is no filter. Forgive me if it is not as structured as my usual posts. I know you will. Thank you.

After his recent visit to China, the Indian Prime Minister, Dr. Manmohan Singh had a message for the Indian industry: Try to learn from the Chinese industrialists. It was widely broadcast across all the Indian media. I do not know what he meant by that - Indian industry is as great or aspiring to be greater than the Chinese regarding quality, size, or any other parameter you might choose.

Why are great Indian industrialists buying and investing in foreign companies, and not investing in India? Why is FDI flowing into China at a much greater rate than into India? Wealth and investment goes where there is least governmental interference. This is the lesson our politicians are yet to learn.

In my opinion, it would be better if the Indian government learnt from the Chinese government regarding politics and economics. Particularly, the Indian Left, who is so glad about the PM’s visit to China, will do the nation a great good if it learns from the Chinese government’s economic principles. China has welcomed all sorts of capitalist investments, which the Indian Left still myopically opposes.

I thought the Indian PM is intelligent enough not to dish out a moral lecture to the Indian industry when his own government has failed to support the industry. Does he think intelligent Indians do not see the irony and hypocrisy in his speech?

I am
Therefore I breathe
I am
Therefore  I live

To live or not
That is the question
To breathe or not
That is the dilemma

Moments of panic
That are tragic
I am lethargic
There’s need of some magic

Uncomfortable
Unstable
Unable
To be stable

I am hurt
But I won’t be curt
The situation does hurt
Who’ll clean up the dirt?

I will try
Not to cry
It’s about time
For me to fly

This blog has been inactive and dormant for quite some time due to personal reasons. I hope to resume in a week or two. Thanks for all the comments and patience. And a very happy new year to all my readers!

I have always admired Western films featuring the handicapped, such as Children of a Lesser God, Scent of a Woman, and the classic The Miracle Worker. So the last weekend, I decided to explore similar Indian films. Warning: this post contains spoilers.

Koshish (Effort) (1972)

Directed by the sensitive Gulzar, featuring stalwarts Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri, Koshish (IMDB) is about the life of a deaf and dumb couple who try to live a normal life in an insensitive society. It was very courageous of Gulzar to make a popular, commercial film of such an unusual plot, unlike the parallel art cinema of the times. After their first child dies due to an accident that they could not prevent as a result of being deaf, they get help from a blind friend to help raise the second child successfully.

It was heartwarming to see a film being made on such a subject using a popular cast. It does suffer from the usual drawbacks of popular cinema - excessive music, lot of melodrama, stereotypical villains, etc. However, viewed from a larger perspective, the director must be praised for taking the effort in trying to raise awareness among the masses.

There are touching scenes aplenty. The friendship and communication of the deaf and dumb couple with the blind friend is poignant. The anxiousness of the parents to have a ‘normal’ child is well done. Creative flourishes include a contraption used by the blind friend to alert the parents when the baby awakens and cries at night, and a scene where the young child is dancing to music from the radio and the parents touch the radio speakers to feel the rhythm. Both Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri play their roles very well and won the National Awards for Acting.

The artificial sets look too artificial. Another gripe I had was the same as Roger Ebert had with Children of a Lesser God - there is no scene without music to really let the audience feel how the world is for the couple. I morally disagreed with the plot at the end, where the son is virtually forced to marry a deaf and dumb girl. Overall, still recommended, as it is one of the rare Indian Sign Language Films.

Shwaas (Breath) (2004)

India’s failed attempt at the 77th Academy Awards was the film Shwaas (IMDB), which was a Marathi Indian National Award winner after 50 years. A rural boy with a rare retinal cancer is brought to the city hospital by his grandfather. A life-saving surgery would render the boy permanently blind. This difficult situation is dramatized in the film sensitively or over-sentimentally - depending on the viewer’s appetite for melodrama. While most Indian audiences find little or no melodrama in the film, most Western reviewers find it mawkish.

The long drawn out formalities in the hospital may appear too stretched, but that underscores the plight and frustration of millions of Indians who deal with the Indian medical bureaucracy. The hospital scenes appear authentic because six months were spent by the crew studying the goings-on in a real hospital. Both Ashwin Chitale as the boy (National Award for Best Actor), and Arun Nalawade as the grandfather deliver sterling performances. The doctor and social worker helping them cope with the situation are passable. The rural scenes of the boy’s village are a counterpoint to the hectic city life. These are captured with cinematic beauty, an accomplishment for Sandeep Sawant’s directorial debut. The music is generally fine, with an excellent interlude of piano with strings in the middle.

Among the negatives is an overly dramatized sequence when the boy ‘disappears’ from the hospital. The exaggeration is unrealistic. The parents absence from the key action seems implausible. The surgeries of other patients are postponed with an alarming insouciance. Despite these minor blemishes, Shwaas is a breath of fresh air about finding optimism in the gravest of circumstances. One of the finest Indian films in recent times.

Sparsh (Touch) (1980)

Sai Paranjpe’s Sparsh (IMDB) offers an unparalled insider’s view of the world of the blind. It is a very sensitively handled story of the romantic relationship between a blind man Anirudh (Naseeruddin Shah) who runs a school for the blind, and a bereaved widow Kavita (Shabana Azmi). The scenes of blind children of the school are used to form a backdrop to the central drama of the relationship. Of all these three films, this is the most ‘artsy’, the least melodramatic, and hence most to my liking.

Both the characters are living in a kind of a shell, afraid to open themselves up in fear of hurt. Anirudh is extremely independent, fierce in his determination, and passionately resists any attempt by others to treat him differently because of his blindness. His internal vulnerability is revealed later in the film. Kavita is living an isolated life while apparently cocooned in her bereavement. After a chance encounter, Kavita accepts Anirudh’s suggestion of teaching the children at his school.

The scenes of the children at the school are endearing. The only sighted boy once has a fight with a blind classmate and shuts his eyes to have a fair fight. The children play games, act in a drama, create candles and artifacts, and all these scenes are without a shred of pity - rather they’re a tribute to the triumph of the human spirit.

Soon, Anirudh and Kavita are in love, and they are engaged. This is where Anirudh’s inner insecurity leads him to suspect that Kavita is marrying him out of sacrifice and compromise, and that she doesn’t really love him. His dichotomy - on the one hand he wants others to treat him just like a normal person, and on the other, is hesitant to accept it when Kavita does - is extremely well handled. Naseer’s performance strikes just the right tone. He won the National Award for Best Actor. This is one of the rare performances in Indian films where a lead actor performs a blind role without the use of opaque glasses. His method acting is superlative.

All scenes are given just the right emotional treatment, and the cast delivers Sai Paranjpe’s vision of a sensitive film about intelligent, human characters. It was this film that inspired the poem in my earlier post “Blind Love”. Highly recommended.

Dear readers, this past week has been very hectic and I’ve mostly been offline. My gratitude to all the comments, and apologies for the delay in my response. I hope I will be able to spend more time posting, responding, and visiting your wonderful blogs in the coming week!

Thanks for bearing with me.