Making sense of the world.
Suhasini
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Posts by Suhasini
Sense. Or. Sensibility.
Nov 28th
In a relationship built on sensibility, Sense has no role. In a relationship of Sense, sensibility has no role.
With every relationship, the cynicism increases. Nobody can be truly in love after the age of 18.
What about those of us who refuse to let sensibility in? Companionship – such a palatable term. Acceptable to the Great Indian Middle Class.
Here’s a question – what is companionship?
Companionship. Noun. A feeling of fellowship or friendship.
Ergo, to be companionable there’d first have to be friendliness.
Friendliness – of, relating to or befitting a friend. To be companions, we need to be friends. To be friends we need – what?
Friend – a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. To be companions, we need to be friends. To be a friend, there has to be affection or personal regard.
Affection - a “disposition or rare state of mind or body” that is often associated with a feeling or type of love.
So the “L” word does indeed, appear. In companionship. That very epitome of correctness.
Affection, personal regard, love – do these not arise from a mutual understanding? If yes – what is that understanding of? One cannot understand an abstract. There has to be a Subject that is understood – be it a common culture, a specific choice of tea or an abhorrence for Punk Rock. Understanding is a valid choice, extended to a finite entity. Without a concrete entity to extend that understanding to, the whole edifice is nothing but a pack of cards, precariously perched on a shifting sands.
Sense – the Senses as manifest in sensuality for the most part – but beyond that as well – are they not the tools with which we understand? Imagine the Blind Men with the Elephant. How did they understand? Only thought Sense. So what if that understanding was incomplete – it was complete to their limited world. None of us are truly Sighted. Aren’t we all stumbling around in the dark? If yes – then why do we fear our Sense? Why wait, like the lone man in the corner, huddled in his cloak of Sensibility, unaware of the Elephant in the room, because the fear of not perceiving the Entity in its Entirety is too overwhelming? Such a waste of Sense. And Time.
Take your pick.
Baap Ek Nambari… Beta Das Nambari!
Oct 20th
Waise toh hum Allahbad ke hain!
Kya baat hai! Hum bi!
Waah!
See, *that’s* why the movie is an epic!
For someone who grew up in a staunchly non-AB house, this proverbial coming-out is B.I.G.
I fancy very few of his songs and virtually none of his movies except Saudaagar – the one with Nutan. Crap story-line but absolutely sterling performances.
So when B & B was released, I was definitely not on the edge of my seat!
Now wait – back the truck up here for a bit!
I must say this – when Abhishek did Refugee, I watched – not because of some freaky AB-ish mania but just because I was trapped on an overnight bus to Nagpur and that was what was shown. And I was … pleasantly impressed, shall we say?!
Then followed Nautch. Breathtaking.
I cannot find an AB Sr. movie in comparison to that one.
AB is a brand – don’t get me wrong, have nothing against the man personally. But he is AB in every movie he’s ever done. Which is yes – the USP of a Star, but erm… that little thing called acting? Yes, well, *that* is nowhere in the picture when he is.
Have a look at Abhimaan or even Mili. Try any of the usual suspects – Sholay, Namak Haram, Coolie, Khuddar, Khuda Gawah, Hum. He’s Trademark AB, isn’t it?
Now go get some sleep. Next day – watch AB Jr.
Start with Refugee. Move to Yuva. Then do Nautch. If you want the diploma, squeeze in KANK. Painful on the whole – except the acting bits of the non-stars. Tell you what – some parts of Bluffmaster were worth their weight in gold.
The very epitome of savoir faire, the piece de resistance, however, has got to be Dostana. Kirron Kher with her “phalo… phulo… kher! Jaane do!” did to AB Jr. (and to a lesser extent, to JA) what Chico and Harpo did to Groucho.
And finish with B&B. That movie – that is the real coming-of-age of Indian mainstream cinema. It made everyone laugh without a single reference to scatological humor. If you are Indian and have watched even one of the classic Indian “funny” movies (read: anything early Shammi Kapoor or with Rajendra “underpants” Kumar in it or even a Hyderabadi Mahmood!) you’ll be at-home with anything remotely related to the emission of wind or bowel movements.
Watch B & B. Point out one scene which has even a passing reference to this and I’ll eat my hat.
I am not a movie buff and I have no idea if the producers intended the movie to be so.. intellectually alluring. The fact is, it is the 21st century cinema equivalent to the 1980s DD tele-serial Flop Show. Remember Jaspal Bhatti and his unbelievable tongue-in-cheek take on Chandigarh and Delhi life back then?
Tell me honestly that the movie doesn’t remind you of a similar mentality and I’ll tell you to sober up. Honestly, I – who’s as tight-fisted as a Scotsman when it comes to movies (no offence to kilt-wearers!) – watched B & B twice – TWICE – in the theatre. With popcorn. Right till the last of the credits. And loved every single precious minute.
Aisa koi saga nahi.. jisko thaga nahi…
It doesn’t get more Indian than that. That is the personification of baap bada na bhaiyya.. sabse bada rupaiyya. Not Mother India. Not Mera Naam Joker. This. This very UP- bhaiyya, “camptishan main hissa lene aaye hain!” mentality. The same one that’ll sell the Taj. The same one where the investigating officer turns up to interrogate and asks the “firang” to “tell joke – non-veg”.
Where else would you have graphic descriptions of shalgam-gobi ke achaar wala perfume or slick, oily, bush-shirt wearing Babus without the extra “focus” of Art Cinema accompanied with dark footage?!
Where else would you have the heroine respond to a potentially sentimental concept of missing her parents in the wonderful eloquence of “kar rahi hoon! Yaad aa rahi hai, bathroom nahi aa raha!”
That’s the sheer genius of the movie.
Thing is, he was born his father’s son.
AB Jr. is an actor while his dad is just a Star.
The Morning After
Sep 21st
I’ll be there for you – when the rain starts to pour…
I’ll be there for you- like I’ve been there before…
I’ll be there for you – cos’ you’re there for me too!
Do you like your friends? Here’s a thought – we love because we are conditioned to but we like because it appeals to our parameters of acceptability (or unacceptability –whatever gets you off!) So which is it – do you “love” your friends or are they there because you have rationalized the relationship and arrived at the junction of liking that rationalization? What do you need from a friendship? Companionship. Trust. Belief. Like-mindedness. Loyalty. Fidelity. Courage. What do we expect from those that we love? Companionship. Trust. Belief. Like-mindedness. Loyalty. Fidelity. Courage. Is it me or can someone else see the problem here?! How often can you stand up and say exactly what you don’t like about a person AND still have them stick around? No answer?! Interesting!
Look at friendships from another angle. Colleagues that work closely together on 10-hour workdays, six-day work weeks are thrown together by force of circumstance. As if that is not enough, modern-day work ethos just cannot make space for some good ol’ hostility! So you’re just not allowed not to like your co-workers. What’s wrong with being a total Class A jerk if you get the job done and well, at that? Why must love be all around us? It gets suffocating! A while ago, I turned into a Class A+ jerk for a spell and managed to trample on toes and other digits. Did that make me any less good at my work? Co-workers would disagree – I think! About those digit-less people hopping around? Yes, still there, regrown out of all that scar-tissue. Any more “love” feeling? I guess not – and probably am a notch further down on the Home Coming Queen ladder but at least the ladder figures.
Food Talk
Sep 5th
One of my favourite activities is to people-watch, that too, at cafés and eateries. We are what we eat, after all, but over the years, I believe I’d add “and how we eat” to that sentence.
Through all my travels – and there are many more to be done! – I’ve come to appreciate, cherish and treasure the plethora of sensuality that is Indian cuisine. Growing up in a home that thought as much as it lived, food was not just a fact of life – it was something to be learnt, discovered, achieved with skill and appreciated with gratitude. Even simple meals were a celebration in themselves – with all the trappings of a well-laid table to good conversation. Many a meal has lingered past the one-hour mark with discussions about spices and recipes and culinary influences. Therefore, to me, watching and digesting food are not just physical activities.
Obviously, when I headed to Italy, then, I was quite keen on the cuisine and their culinary ideas. After all, it is one of the oldest formal cuisines in the Western world and no, it did not disappoint me. Northern Italy is more Germanic than Neapolitan or Tuscan. Turin, the seat of the Duchy of Savoy, Milan, Como – all Alpine. It follows then, that so it the food. The infamy of long-drawn Italian meals is a delight to the observer – meals can last for up to three hours! To this day, it is perfectly acceptable to begin meals with an aperitif, moving on to anti-pasti. If you are Italian, you’ll most definitely do justice to anything that follows. If, however, you are not, this is the time to loosen your belt a couple of notches – trust me – you’ll need the extra space. Pasta and the main course follow. Then of course, there is the dolce - dessert – and coffee. Bitter, strong, fresh and knock-your-socks-off caffeinated! All this must be accompanied by voluble and animated conversation that runs the entire gamut of topics – not to forget frantic gesticulation! I have a theory for this – this physical activity keeps the calories in check and makes room for the grande finale – il gelato – the ice cream. There’s one thing Italy will always win the crown for – their ice creams. If you’re every lucky enough to find yourself in La Italia, treat yourself to a couple of slurps of heaven – it goes by the name of rum-and-raisin gelato.
Italians consider meals an occasion that borders on the sacred. It’s not just the food, it’s the whole act of being together that counts.
21st Century Breakdown
Aug 27th
A recent conversation with an old friend turned to people we’d known during our university days. These are the people who had fought hard and smart for the most coveted positions, for the well-paid, high-profile careers. They are now married, and expecting or attending to their offspring. The women especially are now more than happy to trade notes on teething problems rather than the latest BP crisis in the Gulf of Mexico. It made me think.
Do we really not have to be feminists anymore, because our grandmothers and mothers fought that war for us?
When visiting Italy a while ago, a classmate and close friend confided that although she was as qualified and more experienced than her husband, it would be unheard of for her to choose her work over staying at home and looking after the children. This, in a First World country where even the toilets are automated!
On Saturdays we’d stroll through the morning markets, people-watching. An oddity struck me again and again – over-30 women with babies, toddlers, or pregnant. Rarely did one see a young mother. In contrast, most parents with children under the age of five, in India, would be young grandparents or at least parents of teenagers! It seems that for women to juggle careers and home is becoming more of an impossibility, so many choose to finish their careers by their early-to-mid thirties, and then be wives and mothers. Again, an either-or scenario.