Dostii kii Kasam... Or friendship that never was?

They say that when one door closes, another opens.But no amount of open doors can keep u from thinking wistfully, with longing,an ache in ur mind,a scar in ur soul that refuses to heal, about the closed doors. And no amount of closed doors can scare u away from stepping into that unknown , uncertain world that another open door offers.

Thus I got this new friend today. Though we have met a couple of times earlier,we got a chance to get to know each other only recently, thanks to the film fair organising committee meetings. A father of 2 kids, something abt him reminds me of my own dad, though I cant put my finger on what it is.God please let him still be my friend in my old age (if at all I reach that age)!

And this man brings to my mind this dear friend from whom I have to keep my distance ( atleast for the time being) so that he wud still be my frind, and this other great friend who left me for...oh for what reason I know not. Not that I ever stop thinking of either of these gentlemen.Still...Oh Dickinson:

They say that "time assuages," -
Time never did assuage;
An actual suffering strengthens,
As sinews do, with age.

Time is a test of trouble,
But not a remedy.
If such it prove,it prove too
There was no malady.

Motor Cycle Diaries

When the benevolent Father Benny Benedict, the most unpriest-like priest I've ever come across told abt the screening of Motor Cycle Diaries at the Janasamskara Kendra, I rushed to the place inspite of my fatigue and ennui.Dragged Jo along for he was gushing abt the musical score in the film.Normally I have a dislike for watching movies that are adaptations of books.Somehow the movies lack the vibrancy that u feel when u first read the book.

Books, when adapted to the movies, lose some of the charm and scope for fancy and fantasy in the mind of the reader. I have rarely come across a flick that has done justice to the book. On the other hand, some books,when visualised, deviate form what the author has been apparently trying to convey and take on the hue of the Director's personal interpretation.

"Agnisakshi" of Lalithambika Antharjanam was one such experience for me where the protagonist of the book Thethi ,or Thethi Edathi,or Devaki Manampilly, or Devi Behan, or Sumithrananda fade into the background in the movie. The way the novelist marks the evolution of the character who duly passes through turbulent domestic, social, & political phases to finally reach the spiritual calm is truly spell-binding.

But curiously, when the movie came out through the young (if u cud call a thirty plus man young, Shyam was young when the movie came) ,promising(?) hands of the director, somehow the centre stage was occupied by none other than Thethi’s husband Unni who was more than ably portrayed by Rajit Kapur.No I wont attempt a feminist reading of the coup that was effected when the book passed from the hands of the women-writer to the man-director. Shobhana was a total disaster as Thethi. She could not even hold a torch to the spirit of Antharjjanam’s most famous creation.

So, what I am trying to tell u is that fate, or rather Jo took me to this film that promised to give us a glimpse of the pre-revolutionary days of the most idolized revolutionary of last century. I had gone there expecting to see some red-hot fiery revolutionaries who might shout slogans at the sight of their leader. Probably they would have been too embarrassed to watch their hero gasp for his breath like a small kid.(By the way, Che was a Doc,an asthmatic one at that…revelations…revelations…)
But in their stead all I could see was some bearded intellectual types who kept scratching their chins ,trying to sport a deep thoughtful look on their lifeless faces.

Beautiful movie. And what visuals! fantastic cinematography.Music blending with the scenes.This time I was happy that I found the movie first and not the book. The movie shows a young Ernesto with his friend Alberto making a trip across Argentina, Peru, Brazil , Chile…and Ernesto’s metamorphosis into Che is accepted by the audience without any murmur.

I found myself weeping as he swam across the metaphorical river that divided the sick and poor from the healthy, the rich. Of course he was swimming towards the bleaker side of the river. On one side his friends asking him to be careful shouting cautions his way…on the other , the cheering crowd of lepers welcoming them into their midst .But wudnt he have felt lonely in the dark cold waters?

What grit! What a life! What a death!

Though not a Che, take the plunge , I must. But dare I?

Other side of midnight

There it goes again! Here I was, enjoying myself in the lightness of being,absorbing the cool wetness of the night into all my living pores,resting assured in the belief that God IS still there in his heaven and all SHOULD go well with the world. But lo and behold! the morning paper tells me a different story.One death in the district... a silver lightning came, touched him, took his life out of him. 50 houses destroyed.Makes me almost feel guilty for yesternight's euphoria! But then that is life, or rather, that is death!

Poor God, after all, he too is human, na?

Rain rain come again

The first showers of the summer! A much-wanted respite for the parched earth. Began as just another Sunday,but with the rains, the evening blossomed,and what the night holds in its dark folds,I know not.Had a good rain dance.I am looking forward to the 2-month-break from "work". A hundred things to be done.First?started my first blog. Lets see how far I go...