not school as in uniforms and satchels, but school as in university, yeah these americans are crazy. you don't pass out of school or college, but you pass out when you have one too many drinks or get dead tired. know about clean dirt? an oxymoron? not quite. dirt refers to dry mud, soil, earth...yaane ke mitti. so now you know what clean dirt is!
anyhow not to get side-tracked i was writing about being back at school. a master's program in counseling psychology. i have a master's already in clinical psychology but since that is from india it does not count for much in this narcissistic zenophobic country. to get a license to practice as a psychotherapist i will need to clear the marraige and family therapy licensure requirements, part of which include so many hours at school, so many hours of individual psychotherapy, and so many hours of supervised psychotherapy with clients. i completely agree with the latter two requirements so that is good. and i am on the path so great!
life has become more interesting and time passes quickly, with classes to attend, reading to do, assignments to complete, papers to write and so on. the best part is having a clear purpose.
sharing of oneself, talking about feelings and private thoughts and generally opening up to others is not always comfortable but is nevertheless enjoyable on the whole.
i found a beautiful poem on psychotherapy that i shall share here
The Invitation
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow.
If you have been opened by life's betrayals
or if you have become shriveled and closed from the fear of future pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain; mine or your own,
without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own.
If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the "story" you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bare the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithful and, therefore, be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not present everyday.
And, if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure; yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes"!
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where, what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
i found this at http://www.joanfenoldmft.com/poetry.html
Friday, November 6, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
transpersonal translation of sufi song arziyan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhImIrLacV0
i love this sufi song sooo..this is the arziyan or maulla maulla mere maulla song from the film delhi 6. director - rakeysh omprakash mehra, music - rehman, lyrics - prasoon joshi, singers - javed ali and kailash kher.
i think it is truly profound. therefore posting a translation (for non-hindi speaking visitors)
with a transpersonal interpretation for all...
Arziyan saari main
Chehre pe likh ke laya hoon
All my pleas, yearnings I bring to you written large on my face
Tum se kya mangu main
Tum khud hi samajh lo
What can I ask from You, You (who know every thing) can surely understand /know better
Ya Maula, maula, maula mere maula
Oh Lord, my lord…
Mere maula..maula…Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Creases and fissures line my forehead, (so many worries, but also the fate is writ on the forehead) Lord
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Repair my fate, O Lord
Mere Maula
Tere darr pe jhuka hoon, mita hoon, bana hoon
At your doorstep do I bow, obliterate myself, and emerge again anew
(I surrender to You, in this surrender does my past die, from this surrender do I emerge anew)
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Jo bhi tere darr aaya, jhukne jo sar aaya
Whoever came to Your door to bow their heads in surrender to You
Mastiyan piye sabko jhoomta nazar aaya
Was seen by everyone to be in a trance, dancing with happiness,
Pyaas leke aaya tha, dariya woh bhar laya
He came to You with a thirst, went back home (satiated) with a river
Noor ki baarish mein bheegta sa tarr aaya
Drenched in showers of light and joy, he transcended
Noor ki baarish mein bheegta sa tarr aaya
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula
(jo bhi tere..) 2
Ho….ek khushbu aati thi
A fragrance emanated from somewhere
Ek khusbhu aati thi
Main bhatakta jaata tha
I wandered lost in its search
Reshmi si maya thi
It was a beautiful epiphany of illusions
Aur main takta jaata tha
And I gaped in astonished wonder
Jab teri gali aaya
Sach tabhi nazar aaya
It was only when I came upon Your path, that the truth dawned upon me
Jab teri gali aaya
Sach tabhi nazar aaya
Mujhme hi woh khusbu thi
Jisse tune milvaya
It was within me that the fragrance resided, to which You had introduced me
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula
Toot ke bhikharna mujhko zaroor aata
I certainly know how to break into pieces and scatter
Parna ibadat wala shahur aata hai
But I do not know how to pray to You in the correct manner
Sajde mein rehne do, ab kahin na jaaunga
Let me remain prostrate before You, I will not go anywhere now
Sajde mein rehne do, ab kahin na jaaunga
Ab jo tune thukraya toh savar na paaunga
If You reject me now, I will not be able to recover
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula
Sar uthake maine toh kitni khwaishen ki thi
I had dared to desire so many things
Kitne khwab dekhe the, kitni koshishen ki thi
I dreamt innumerable dreams and made so many efforts and strivings
Jab tu roobaroo aaya
Jab tu roobaroo aaya, nazren na mila paaya
But when I communed with you, I could not look in the eyes
Sar jhukake ek pal…hooo
Sar jhukake ek pal mein maine kya nahi paaya
With my head bowed (in surrender to You) in that very moment what have I not found (I received everything and more…)
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Mere maula..mere maula….
Mora piya ghar aaya, mora piya ghar aaya..
My Beloved has finally returned home (I have finally come home to my Lord, to my essential nature… )
अर्जियां सारी मैं
चेहरे पे लिख के लाया हूँ
तुम से क्या मांगु मैं
तुम ख़ुद ही समझ लो
या मौला, मौला, मौला मेरे मौला
मेरे मौला..मौला…मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
तेरे दर पे झुका हूँ, मिटा हूँ, बना हूँ
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
जो भी तेरे दर आया, झुकने जो सर आया
मस्तियाँ पिए सबको झूमता नज़र आया
प्यास लेके आया था, दरिया वोह घर लया
नूर की बारिश में भीगता सा तरर आया
नूर की बारिश में भीगता सा तरर आया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला, मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
(जो भी तेरे..) २
हो….एक खुशबु आती ठी
एक खुस्भु आती थी
मैं भटकता जाता था
रेशमी सी माया थी
और मैं ताकता जाता था
जब तेरी गली आया
सच तभी नज़र आया
जब तेरी गली आया
सच तभी नज़र आया
मुझमे ही वोह खुसबू थी
जिससे तुने मिलवाया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
टूट के बीइखारना मुझको ज़रूर आता
पर न इबादत वाला शहर आता है
सजदे में रहने दो, अब कहीं न जाऊँगा
सजदे में रहने दो, अब कहीं न जाऊँगा
अब जो तुने ठुकराया तोह सवार न पाऊंगा
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
सर उठाके मैंने तोह कितनी ख्वैशें की थी
कितने ख्वाब देखे थे, कितनी कोशिशें की थी
जब तू रूबरू आया
जब तू रूबरू आया, नज़रें न मिला पाया
सर झुकाके एक पल…होऊ
सर झुकाके एक पल में मैंने क्या नही पाया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला, मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
मेरे मौला..मेरे मौला….
मोरा पिया घर आया, मोरा पिया घर आया॥
with grateful thanks to http://opalodyssey.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/maulamagic1/
http://arrahman.asia/index.php?action=printpage;topic=3237.0
Saturday, March 14, 2009
"mirror, mirror on the wall; who is the maddest of us all?"
i saw a movie today that i loved deeply. it has its heart in the right place, which is delhi -6. why 6? because that is the pincode of old delhi. delhi 6 with its labyrinthine streets and alleys, cycle rikshaws, swirling crowds, parathans and sweets, muhallas and the muhallewalas, the warm people that can make you their own, if you let them. everyone is family until suddenly, chimerically it breaks apart. delhi 6 - the film offers a hard look at these people, at us.
i was connected to delhi 6 through my ex-husband, a man who later introduced me as his friend, never as the ex-wife and that too is part and parcel of the ways of delhi -6. no matter. co-incidentally his current wife also stars in the film. be that as it may, the essence of delhi -6 lingers on in me and this film helps revive it. for that i am grateful to soul-brother rakeysh omprakash mehra. i like this man more and more...
he gave us 'rang de basanti' and that was a tough act to follow. but he triumphs with delhi -6. fine tuned performances by the entire ensemble, abhishek too is growing on me, sonam is lovely and pitch-perfect, as are waheeda, om puri, vijay raj, rishi kapoor, supriya pathak, sheeba, atul kulkarni, divya dutta, deepak dobriyal, etc. etc.
the film works on many layers and levels, ram leela is the myth on stage, the kala bunder (black monkey) is the allegory you follow on television through the film you are watching on-screen.
the summary of the plot (borrowed from wikipedia) is as follows :-
The film opens with the ailing grandmother Annapurna at the office of a cardiac surgeon in New York. The surgeon indicates that Annapurna suffers from heart blockage and may not have long to live. Annapurna insists on returning to Delhi, her hometown, where she intends to die in peace. Though her son and daughter-in-law object vehemently, her American-born grandson Roshan (who has a special bond with his grandmother) agrees to bring her back.
Annapurna is received with pomp and ceremony when she returns to her home in old delhi. Roshan is initially stunned by the mad rush of various neighbors: Ali Baig the renaissance man, feuding brothers Madangopal and Jaigopal, their wives and families, Mamdu the halwai, Gobar the simpleton, Sethji and many others. However, Roshan eventually warms to the place and wholeheartedly embraces the sense of community in it. He accompanies his grandmother to the Ramleelas, hangs out at Mamdu's sweet stall, plays with the children, and gradually becomes steeped in the culture of the place.
Roshan is also slowly exposed to some sobering realities. When Annapurna faints (due to fluctuating blood sugar levels) and they scramble to get her to a hospital, he finds the roads choked by traffic because of an impromptu ceremony around a cow in labor; he is further surprised when his grandmother, despite her stupor, stumbles forth to seek the blessings of a sacred cow; and he is astounded when the local police seem to encourage the practice. Roshan begins to understand the feuds and social issues in the community. Madangopal's sister Rama is unwed (at an age when spinsterhood is a significant social no-no) and Jaigopal's electrical business is going nowhere. The lecherous old local money lender Lala Bhairam is married to a young girl who, in turn, is having an affair with a young photo-studio hand Suresh. Suresh is a double timer who is also pursuing Madangopal's daughter Bittu. Bittu secretly wants out of the stuck-in-time Old Delhi; she secretly prepares to audition for a popular reality show indian idol in the hope that she will win her way to Mumbai. Roshan comes to appreciate Ali Baig's cosmopolitan tastes and is surprised to learn that Ali Baig fancied his mother many years ago, and has since never married. And Roshan comes to empathize with the lower-caste trash collector girl Jalebi who must endure untouchability at social functions except for when some of the brutish locals seek company. Roshan also crosses paths with the loutish inspector Ranvijay who blithely stretches his authorities to manhandle the locals, and becomes acquainted with the local assemblywoman who displays political power at every opportunity.
In the meantime, the news media is all abuzz with tales of a fearsome terror known only as the "Kala bandar (Black Monkey)". This miscreant (never shown clearly in the film) attacks people, steals various articles and has also caused the death of a few innocent people. (These deaths are mostly accidental, as in the example of a pregnant housewife who was supposedly startled by a silhouette and fell down a flight of stairs or the example of an unfortunate man who was briefly zapped by a live electric wire.) Nonetheless, the local news picks up on every move by the kala bandar and loudly blares about all his exploits. Jaigopal, the self-proclaimed electronics genius, theorizes that the kala bandar likely has an electrical circuit (to zap his victims) and may be electrocuted by water; this rumor is quickly propagated through the locality.
The film takes several turns. After some initial friction, Roshan and Bittu warm to each other. Roshan intervenes when Bittu is about to receive a prospective suitor arranged by Madangopal. He echoes Bittu's desire to pursue other dreams; this drives the suitor away and brings Madangopal's wrath upon him. He gradually begins to fall in love with Bittu, but is confused when Bittu expresses her affections for Suresh (she believes he will support her dreams). Around this time, the kala bandar attacks Old Delhi. The simple-minded locals bring in a tantrik Shani baba to exorcize the demonic influence of the kala bandar. After an extended havan ceremony, the tantrik baba indicates that the local mosque, built over the ruins of a temple that was demolished for the purpose, is the provocation for the evil soul of the kala bandar. This promptly stokes animosity in the otherwise harmonious Hindu-Muslim community. After the initial peaceful demonstrations (by rallies and angry meetings), various mobs go on rampage and tear up some of the local streets. Roshan attempts to make peace, but is rebuffed because of his mixed religious parentage. The locals ultimately settle on the fact that the kala bandar is hiding out in the sooni galli (a dark lane known to harbor evil presences) and must be destroyed. They command the simpleton Gobar to fetch a lock of hair from the evil enemy so that the tantrik can burn it and complete the exorcism.
Roshan becomes aware of Bittu's plan to elope with Suresh, and that Suresh is a low-life two timer. He dons a monkey mask and monkey outfit and stealthily follows Bittu by leaping across the rooftops. In the meantime Gobar ventures into the sooni galli where Jalebi gives him a lock of her hair so he may return in triumph and bring peace to the community. At that moment, Roshan (in his monkey outfit) intercedes in Bittu and Suresh's rendezvous and causes the cowardly Suresh to flee. Bittu raises a loud alarm before Roshan unmasks himself, whereupon the angry locals storm the place. But not before Roshan has had a chance to avow his love for Bittu and she has reciprocated.
Believing Roshan to be the kala bandar, the angry mob beat him to within an inch of his life and Mamdu shoots him. Then, Gobar comes up with a startling deduction about the reality of the kala bandar. The revelation stops the violence. Roshan has a near death expereince, meeting his grandpop, who wants to ask forgiveness of his muslim daughter-in-law. Roshan comes back to quote Zuak, "Kaun jaaye zauk yeh delhi ki galliyan chhod kar". The film ends on a happy note with peace and joy restored to the community of Old Delhi.
that is on the straight forward level. as a social commentary :-
the monkey-man is a real phenomenon that occurred 2-3 years ago. the tv footage could just as well have been taken from the coverage of that event. the rumor mongering and the media adding to the frenzy is as rampant as the flourishing of superstition. the mandir-masjid issue that sparked many a riot among the hindus and muslims is, well, dare i say, history? the roof-top romance is fortunately an on-going occurance. the coming home to die in one's own coutnry is a common enough sentiment, though i do not know of any indian families that speak so openly of death and dying and prepare for it too. perhaps it is rakesh's homage to an iraniam film 'mother' and the man with the mirror to a makhmalbaf film.
now the man with the mirror is the element that raises the film from good to great. i would have prefered the call to recognising oneself as the divine or as the black monkey to have been more subtle, but given that this is a hindi commercial film it is fairly well done. not only is the mirror strategically placed on the wish-fulfilling tree at the end, but the entire film is that mirror. the mirror that invites us to look at how we create factions, riots, walls, as well as connections, relations and love. but like roshan's sermon in the film or gobar's; advice is one that the fools do not take ...
the flavour of delhi -6 is in the way the people speak -. at the risk of diluting if not losing it in translation- "dogs eat to satiate hunger, humans to create bonds""you won't be allowed to get an entry if you don't have this" "i could go to bombay anytime i am just allowing others to get a chance"it is in the 'the urdu peotry of Zauk', the mukesh songs on radio, the rivalry in singing bhajans at the 'jagran', the kite-flying, the ram-leela, the pigeon-rearing, but most of all the typical characters that populate the old city.
the bribe-taking, slap-happy cop, the corner shop-keeper-owner , the squabbling brothers, the spinster sister, the rich old lusty man married to a young woman, who cheats on him, the cassanova photographer, the middle-class young woman who escapes her father's plans of matrimony for her by chasing dreams of making it on a talent hunt tv reality show, the political figure riding on communal tension, the idiot who is smarter than all the rest, the low-caste woman with the sharp tongue.... the only not so believable aspect is how quickly she gets integrated into mainstream society...letting that be
i take my hat off to delhi-6 and its maker even more for the inner conflict that re-iterates in his two films. the belief in surrender and fate and its slide into inaction and apathy vs. belief as faith. this is a spiritual query that confronts every thinking seeker and every feeling intelligent being. this is the central issue at the heart of the film. not so much whether NRIs ought (or ought not) to be returning to india once again. although delhi 6 reverbates with the issues of belonging and feeling disconnected or alienated, the question of faith is at the core regardless of the forms it may take.
the call is to see the divinity in oneself and that cannot come about unless and until we are also willing to recognise the mad monkey that resides within us whenever it springs up and takes control of our re-actions. but i am sermonising again and this message is better delivered through the songs in the film. they not only capture the flavours of old delhi but bring out the essence of faith. a. r. rehman and prasoon joshi (lyrics) make a potent combination indeed. my favuorites are 'massakali', 'delhi-6', 'genda phool', and the classical 'bhor bhaye' but most of all 'arziyan' or 'maulah mere maulah'
i urge all and sundry to see the film and listen to its music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3LKicPLYn0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45M1VXqFdRA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdUcxdmjw04
i was connected to delhi 6 through my ex-husband, a man who later introduced me as his friend, never as the ex-wife and that too is part and parcel of the ways of delhi -6. no matter. co-incidentally his current wife also stars in the film. be that as it may, the essence of delhi -6 lingers on in me and this film helps revive it. for that i am grateful to soul-brother rakeysh omprakash mehra. i like this man more and more...
he gave us 'rang de basanti' and that was a tough act to follow. but he triumphs with delhi -6. fine tuned performances by the entire ensemble, abhishek too is growing on me, sonam is lovely and pitch-perfect, as are waheeda, om puri, vijay raj, rishi kapoor, supriya pathak, sheeba, atul kulkarni, divya dutta, deepak dobriyal, etc. etc.
the film works on many layers and levels, ram leela is the myth on stage, the kala bunder (black monkey) is the allegory you follow on television through the film you are watching on-screen.
the summary of the plot (borrowed from wikipedia) is as follows :-
The film opens with the ailing grandmother Annapurna at the office of a cardiac surgeon in New York. The surgeon indicates that Annapurna suffers from heart blockage and may not have long to live. Annapurna insists on returning to Delhi, her hometown, where she intends to die in peace. Though her son and daughter-in-law object vehemently, her American-born grandson Roshan (who has a special bond with his grandmother) agrees to bring her back.
Annapurna is received with pomp and ceremony when she returns to her home in old delhi. Roshan is initially stunned by the mad rush of various neighbors: Ali Baig the renaissance man, feuding brothers Madangopal and Jaigopal, their wives and families, Mamdu the halwai, Gobar the simpleton, Sethji and many others. However, Roshan eventually warms to the place and wholeheartedly embraces the sense of community in it. He accompanies his grandmother to the Ramleelas, hangs out at Mamdu's sweet stall, plays with the children, and gradually becomes steeped in the culture of the place.
Roshan is also slowly exposed to some sobering realities. When Annapurna faints (due to fluctuating blood sugar levels) and they scramble to get her to a hospital, he finds the roads choked by traffic because of an impromptu ceremony around a cow in labor; he is further surprised when his grandmother, despite her stupor, stumbles forth to seek the blessings of a sacred cow; and he is astounded when the local police seem to encourage the practice. Roshan begins to understand the feuds and social issues in the community. Madangopal's sister Rama is unwed (at an age when spinsterhood is a significant social no-no) and Jaigopal's electrical business is going nowhere. The lecherous old local money lender Lala Bhairam is married to a young girl who, in turn, is having an affair with a young photo-studio hand Suresh. Suresh is a double timer who is also pursuing Madangopal's daughter Bittu. Bittu secretly wants out of the stuck-in-time Old Delhi; she secretly prepares to audition for a popular reality show indian idol in the hope that she will win her way to Mumbai. Roshan comes to appreciate Ali Baig's cosmopolitan tastes and is surprised to learn that Ali Baig fancied his mother many years ago, and has since never married. And Roshan comes to empathize with the lower-caste trash collector girl Jalebi who must endure untouchability at social functions except for when some of the brutish locals seek company. Roshan also crosses paths with the loutish inspector Ranvijay who blithely stretches his authorities to manhandle the locals, and becomes acquainted with the local assemblywoman who displays political power at every opportunity.
In the meantime, the news media is all abuzz with tales of a fearsome terror known only as the "Kala bandar (Black Monkey)". This miscreant (never shown clearly in the film) attacks people, steals various articles and has also caused the death of a few innocent people. (These deaths are mostly accidental, as in the example of a pregnant housewife who was supposedly startled by a silhouette and fell down a flight of stairs or the example of an unfortunate man who was briefly zapped by a live electric wire.) Nonetheless, the local news picks up on every move by the kala bandar and loudly blares about all his exploits. Jaigopal, the self-proclaimed electronics genius, theorizes that the kala bandar likely has an electrical circuit (to zap his victims) and may be electrocuted by water; this rumor is quickly propagated through the locality.
The film takes several turns. After some initial friction, Roshan and Bittu warm to each other. Roshan intervenes when Bittu is about to receive a prospective suitor arranged by Madangopal. He echoes Bittu's desire to pursue other dreams; this drives the suitor away and brings Madangopal's wrath upon him. He gradually begins to fall in love with Bittu, but is confused when Bittu expresses her affections for Suresh (she believes he will support her dreams). Around this time, the kala bandar attacks Old Delhi. The simple-minded locals bring in a tantrik Shani baba to exorcize the demonic influence of the kala bandar. After an extended havan ceremony, the tantrik baba indicates that the local mosque, built over the ruins of a temple that was demolished for the purpose, is the provocation for the evil soul of the kala bandar. This promptly stokes animosity in the otherwise harmonious Hindu-Muslim community. After the initial peaceful demonstrations (by rallies and angry meetings), various mobs go on rampage and tear up some of the local streets. Roshan attempts to make peace, but is rebuffed because of his mixed religious parentage. The locals ultimately settle on the fact that the kala bandar is hiding out in the sooni galli (a dark lane known to harbor evil presences) and must be destroyed. They command the simpleton Gobar to fetch a lock of hair from the evil enemy so that the tantrik can burn it and complete the exorcism.
Roshan becomes aware of Bittu's plan to elope with Suresh, and that Suresh is a low-life two timer. He dons a monkey mask and monkey outfit and stealthily follows Bittu by leaping across the rooftops. In the meantime Gobar ventures into the sooni galli where Jalebi gives him a lock of her hair so he may return in triumph and bring peace to the community. At that moment, Roshan (in his monkey outfit) intercedes in Bittu and Suresh's rendezvous and causes the cowardly Suresh to flee. Bittu raises a loud alarm before Roshan unmasks himself, whereupon the angry locals storm the place. But not before Roshan has had a chance to avow his love for Bittu and she has reciprocated.
Believing Roshan to be the kala bandar, the angry mob beat him to within an inch of his life and Mamdu shoots him. Then, Gobar comes up with a startling deduction about the reality of the kala bandar. The revelation stops the violence. Roshan has a near death expereince, meeting his grandpop, who wants to ask forgiveness of his muslim daughter-in-law. Roshan comes back to quote Zuak, "Kaun jaaye zauk yeh delhi ki galliyan chhod kar". The film ends on a happy note with peace and joy restored to the community of Old Delhi.
that is on the straight forward level. as a social commentary :-
the monkey-man is a real phenomenon that occurred 2-3 years ago. the tv footage could just as well have been taken from the coverage of that event. the rumor mongering and the media adding to the frenzy is as rampant as the flourishing of superstition. the mandir-masjid issue that sparked many a riot among the hindus and muslims is, well, dare i say, history? the roof-top romance is fortunately an on-going occurance. the coming home to die in one's own coutnry is a common enough sentiment, though i do not know of any indian families that speak so openly of death and dying and prepare for it too. perhaps it is rakesh's homage to an iraniam film 'mother' and the man with the mirror to a makhmalbaf film.
now the man with the mirror is the element that raises the film from good to great. i would have prefered the call to recognising oneself as the divine or as the black monkey to have been more subtle, but given that this is a hindi commercial film it is fairly well done. not only is the mirror strategically placed on the wish-fulfilling tree at the end, but the entire film is that mirror. the mirror that invites us to look at how we create factions, riots, walls, as well as connections, relations and love. but like roshan's sermon in the film or gobar's; advice is one that the fools do not take ...
the flavour of delhi -6 is in the way the people speak -. at the risk of diluting if not losing it in translation- "dogs eat to satiate hunger, humans to create bonds""you won't be allowed to get an entry if you don't have this" "i could go to bombay anytime i am just allowing others to get a chance"it is in the 'the urdu peotry of Zauk', the mukesh songs on radio, the rivalry in singing bhajans at the 'jagran', the kite-flying, the ram-leela, the pigeon-rearing, but most of all the typical characters that populate the old city.
the bribe-taking, slap-happy cop, the corner shop-keeper-owner , the squabbling brothers, the spinster sister, the rich old lusty man married to a young woman, who cheats on him, the cassanova photographer, the middle-class young woman who escapes her father's plans of matrimony for her by chasing dreams of making it on a talent hunt tv reality show, the political figure riding on communal tension, the idiot who is smarter than all the rest, the low-caste woman with the sharp tongue.... the only not so believable aspect is how quickly she gets integrated into mainstream society...letting that be
i take my hat off to delhi-6 and its maker even more for the inner conflict that re-iterates in his two films. the belief in surrender and fate and its slide into inaction and apathy vs. belief as faith. this is a spiritual query that confronts every thinking seeker and every feeling intelligent being. this is the central issue at the heart of the film. not so much whether NRIs ought (or ought not) to be returning to india once again. although delhi 6 reverbates with the issues of belonging and feeling disconnected or alienated, the question of faith is at the core regardless of the forms it may take.
the call is to see the divinity in oneself and that cannot come about unless and until we are also willing to recognise the mad monkey that resides within us whenever it springs up and takes control of our re-actions. but i am sermonising again and this message is better delivered through the songs in the film. they not only capture the flavours of old delhi but bring out the essence of faith. a. r. rehman and prasoon joshi (lyrics) make a potent combination indeed. my favuorites are 'massakali', 'delhi-6', 'genda phool', and the classical 'bhor bhaye' but most of all 'arziyan' or 'maulah mere maulah'
i urge all and sundry to see the film and listen to its music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3LKicPLYn0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45M1VXqFdRA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdUcxdmjw04
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The many layers of silence
Silence can be used in a variety of ways. Contrary to the popular conception of ‘suffering in silence’, there is also the possibility of using silence as a protest. Psychologists might regard it as passive aggression but when chosen consciously there is nothing passive about it. Silence need not be taken to mean consent or acquiescence. It can be smoldering with resistance and filled with pent-up hostility and frustration. Or then again it can be as potent, all-seeing and compassionate as the silence of the conscious and still mind.
Yes, silence has many layers. There is an angry silence just as there is a scared silence; there is a loving silence and there is a grieving silence. Silence can be awkward or easy, friendly or aggressive, spontaneous or pregnant with possibilities.
Why do they call silence golden? Because often it means you are refraining from reacting to a bad situation and making it worse. So then silence means the exercise of restraint. Silence can be prayer. Silence can be coming full circle. Silence can be completion, fulfillment, gratitude; silence is simplicity per se, acceptance of what is.
Words that arise from silence are meaningful words. Words that are born of noise are distractions and add to the chaos around. Words born of silence carry the awareness of silence between them and so have the power to awaken and inspire. Noisy words lull one to sleep or mental fatigue, if they arouse then they work upon the lower passions and instigate one into activities that are not truly fulfilling.
If and when you are faced with verbal assault of this nature it is better to remain silent. Participation in such a dialogue will only draw you into the circle of attachment-involvement-action and reaction. Refraining from the use of words will give you the energy to direct your attention back to where it is needed – to the inner peace and tranquility that is your basic nature – silence.
It is true silence has many colours. The composite of all these colours, as well as the ground, the base colour is that of silence. Amen!
Om shanti, shanti, shanti om!
Yes, silence has many layers. There is an angry silence just as there is a scared silence; there is a loving silence and there is a grieving silence. Silence can be awkward or easy, friendly or aggressive, spontaneous or pregnant with possibilities.
Why do they call silence golden? Because often it means you are refraining from reacting to a bad situation and making it worse. So then silence means the exercise of restraint. Silence can be prayer. Silence can be coming full circle. Silence can be completion, fulfillment, gratitude; silence is simplicity per se, acceptance of what is.
Words that arise from silence are meaningful words. Words that are born of noise are distractions and add to the chaos around. Words born of silence carry the awareness of silence between them and so have the power to awaken and inspire. Noisy words lull one to sleep or mental fatigue, if they arouse then they work upon the lower passions and instigate one into activities that are not truly fulfilling.
If and when you are faced with verbal assault of this nature it is better to remain silent. Participation in such a dialogue will only draw you into the circle of attachment-involvement-action and reaction. Refraining from the use of words will give you the energy to direct your attention back to where it is needed – to the inner peace and tranquility that is your basic nature – silence.
It is true silence has many colours. The composite of all these colours, as well as the ground, the base colour is that of silence. Amen!
Om shanti, shanti, shanti om!
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