Life's Like That!!

Hey. 

This past week has been particularly stressful--the number of people affected by COVID-19 is on the increase, the economy nosediving, border conflicts, uncertainty about the examinations creating anxiety across the student community and parents; and as if these were not enough to make the common man--us--about where we are today as human civilization, an incident that shook most of us by surprise, and shock, is the death of the young, successful Bollywood actor Sushant Singh Rajput. A familiar face to many viewers as a TV actor from the daily soap PavitraRishta, he drew our attention with his MSDhoni: An Untold Story and the most recent Chhichhore. A happy-looking talented youth who managed to dent the 'nepotism' wall of Bollywood, estimated to have acquired 60 crore property, what could have ailed him? Depression? Lockdown and its uncertainties? Ignored, snubbed by the Star Kids Club? (which is not synonymous with 'film fraternity') or was it that an extremely sensitive youth who was deeply philosophical and spiritual, having achieved that which not many aspiring young actors achieve, considered life as nothing more than a mirage? Nihilism? Or was it the case of a passionate stargazer who became an existentialist and lost interest in living and/ or life? No one knows what it is. . . human mind is so strange. In any situation, it craves a specific answer. This incident is no different. . . but, the specific answer that would have comforted us even after the tragedy is not to be. 

                At times, the most intelligent of individuals get lost in this jungle of life. Perhaps, the one mark of a successful individual is in living and facing life with whatever it throws at you--irrespective of whether it is acknowledged as a mark of success or not. A student of literature knows it pretty well, I suppose. Europe, for example. The two world wars left a deep scar, a trauma on the minds of Europeans. A civilization that believed in the nobility of the human mind was facing the horror of war and antisemitism. Philosophers like Soren Kierkegaard, Arthur Schopenhauer, and Friedrich Nietzsche discussed Existentialist philosophy. They began questioning the notion of a God who, until then, was imagined as kind, with unlimited knowledge and unlimited power to do anything. This was one of the occasions that made Albert Camus revisit the Greek myth of Sisyphus in his novel The Myth of Sisyphus, published in 1942 in the French language as Le Mythe de Sysphe. Sisyphus is a Grecian condemned by the gods to roll a boulder up the hill eternally. This myth acts as a metaphor depicting the struggle of the individual's persistent struggle against an essentially absurd life-- life without any real meaning. But, like for many of us, for Albert Camus too, it is of utmost importance to accept this notion of the absurd in life and to find joy in accepting this apparent absurdity, in struggling against what seems to be a defeating activity. It is against this defeat that the individual gains dignity and identity. The sheer resilience to live, and live by what one believes in, which one shows in the face of most challenging situations, is most beautiful.  

                  To give a lending hand and keep a smiling face, are not merely superficial; it is a profound, organic way of life. I am very tempted to share a story by Nasreddin Mulla, a celebrated philosopher and a Turkish Sufi celebrating such simplicity of life, very much like our own  Tenali Rama and Birbal. This one is quite a take on the paradox of life:

                                    

                                 Why We Are Here?

          Walking one evening along a deserted road, Mulla Nasreddin saw a troop of horsemen coming towards him. His imagination started to work; he saw himself captured and sold as a slave, or impressed into the army. Nasreddin bolted, climbed a wall into a graveyard, and lay down in an open tomb. Puzzled at his strange behaviour, the men  – honest travellers – followed him. They found him stretched out, tense and quivering. ‘What are you doing in that grave? We saw you run away. Can we help you?’ ‘Just because you can ask a question does not mean that there is a straightforward answer to it,’ said the Mulla, who now realized what had happened. ‘It all depends upon your viewpoint. If you must know, however: I am here because of you, and you are here because of me.’ 

               Well, that's some heartening humor that could save us from grim sadness. Of course, many poets have celebrated this paradoxical beauty of life. Khalil Gibran has one such poem:

                                   

                                           Ambition

Three men met at a tavern table. One was a weaver, another a carpenter, and the third a ploughman.

 Said the weaver, "I sold a fine linen shroud today for two pieces of god. Let us have all the wine we want." 

 "And I," said the carpenter, " I sold my best coffin. We will have a great roast with the wine."

" I only dug a grave," said the Ploughman, " but my patron paid me double. Let us have honey cakes too." 

And all that evening the tavern was busy, for they called often for wine and meat and cakes. And they were merry. 

And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests were spending freely. 

When they left, the moon was high, and they walked along the road singing and shouting together. 

The host and his wife stood at the tavern door and looked after them. 

"Ah!" said the wife, "these gentlemen! So freehanded and so gay!If only they could bring us such luck every day! Then our son need not be a tavern keeper and work so hard. We could educate him and he could become a priest."

 

Well . . . Life's Like That!!!

 

             Dear Reader, do share some happy reading if you would care to . . . it's one way of lending a helping hand in the times of COVID-19!! 

             And of course, do remember to subscribe and share your thoughts in the comments box below👇

Please share your comments directly with me at rekhadatta02@gmail.com or message me @rekhadatta1 on Instagram. I shall send the links to you personally. Thanks for your patience.

    

Stories!! 'A Song and A Story'

Hey. 

Stories have a way of getting into us, at all ages. They make us laugh, wonder, cry, get angry, ridicule the stories. They give us enjoyable intellectual stimulation and emotional sustenance at different times. We do understand that they are imaginary people, places, and situations; so, how does this not make its moral/ethical codes of conduct or their cultural epistemology not imaginary?  How is it that we-their readers/listeners-- take them so very seriously? Perhaps, they choose their method of influencing us. The stories are, to put it in a literary 'technical' language, the very 'figures of speech' of our everyday life. The storyteller transforms her/his everyday life experiences, giving that abstract, airy-nothing experiences a form--a physical form--as in literary genre and characters in the story.

                    Little wonder that the stories cast their spell on 'adults' who comprehend that stories are imaginary narratives. We believe in them--be it in cinemas, daily soaps on television or in serious literature. At each stage of our life, there's a story that appeals to us and there's a person whom we model ourselves after, remains in our mind--etched forever. That's how epics--perhaps the greatest myths we have told ourselves, about ourselves-continue to entertain us and we hold on to them. But, they make us what we are today. We model ourselves after the people in the stories, identify the qualities of the animals in people, the demigods in the myths--they become integral to our identity of who we are as people and our belief in the choices we make in the course of life. 

               Folk tales are my personal favorites. I was fascinated by the folk tales as a child and I continue to be enthralled by it even today. For one thing, they are so fluid-like the rivers that flow. Like the proverb that says you never step into the same water, folk tales never remain the same; yet, even as they change, their narrative is the same. And, unlike many other forms of stories, it is not judgmental, no morals are thrust on the listener. But, the ethical aspects are central to these tales. Most fascinating is the creative-imaginative space it offers the storyteller. If one has noticed, most folk tales have this for the beginning: "Once upon a time, there lived a king . . . " or " In a village, there lived an old woman . . . ". And mostly end with "everyone went home and shared the story with . . . ". And so is born the various versions of folk tales. 

                 A K Ramanujan, the folklorist and academician, collected folktales from different places. He has a delightful collection of tales collected from different regions and languages. One such story is about how a story and a song is born. This tale titled 'A Song and a Story' is as much about the independence of the story and the song as much as it is about the dependence of the teller on the tales.

Tell me a story... from The Flowering Tree by A K Ramanujan

A housewife knew a story. She also knew a song. But she kept them to herself, never told anyone the story or sang the song. Imprisoned within her, the story and the song were feeling choked. They wanted to release, wanted to run away. One day, when the woman was sleeping with her mouth open, the story escaped, fell out of her, took the shape of a pair of shoes, and sat outside the house. The song also escaped, took the shape of something like a man’s coat, and hung on a peg.

The woman’s husband came home, looked at the coat and shoes, and asked her, “Who’s visiting?”

“No one,” she said.

“But whose coat and shoes are these?”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

He wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He was suspicious. Their conversation was unpleasant. The unpleasantness led to a quarrel. The husband flew into a rage, picked up his blanket, and went to the Monkey God’s temple to sleep.

The woman didn’t understand what was happening. She lay down alone that night. She asked the same question over and over: “Whose coat and shoes are these?” Baffled and unhappy, she put out the lamp and went to sleep.

All the lamp flames of the town, once they were put out, used to come to the Monkey God’s temple and spend the night there, gossiping. On this night, all the lamps of all the houses were represented there—all except one, which came late.

The others asked the latecomer, “Why are you so late tonight?”

“At our house, the couple quarrelled late into the night,” said the flame.

“Why did they quarrel?”

“When the husband wasn’t home, a pair of shoes came onto the verandah, and a man’s coat somehow got onto a peg. The husband asked her whose they were. The wife said she didn’t know. So they quarrelled.”

“Where did the coat and shoes come from?”

“The lady of our house,” said the flame, “knows a story and a song. She never tells the story and has never sung the song to anyone. The story and the song got suffocated inside; so they got out and have turned into a coat and a pair of shoes. They took revenge. The woman doesn’t even know.”

The husband, lying under his blanket in the temple, heard the lamp’s explanation. His suspicions were cleared. When he went home, it was dawn. He asked his wife about her story and her song. But she had forgotten them. “What story, what song?” she said.

                             Girish Karand employs the tale, with a little twist,  to introduce the complex theme of gender,  of Nagamandala which also is the conceptual framework of the fertility myth, of gender conflict in the play. 

           (ಈ ಕಥೆಯನ್ನು ಕಾರ್ನಾಡರು ನಾಗಮಂಡಲ ನಾಟಕದ ಪ್ರಸ್ತಾವನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ.) "ನಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇರುವವರಿಬ್ಬರೆ--ಮುದುಕ, ಮುದುಕಿ. ಈ ಹೊತ್ತು ಮುದುಕಿ ಊಟ ಮುಗಿಸಿ, ನೆಲ ಸಾರಿಸಿ, ಪಾತ್ರೆ ತೊಳೆದಿಟ್ಟು ಗ್ಂಡ ಮಲಗಿದ ಕೋಣೆಗೆ ಬಂದಳು. ನೋಡತಾಳೆ, ಒಬ್ಬ ಚೆಂದನ್ನ ಹೆಣ್ಣು ಹುಡುಗಿ ಬಣ್ಣ ಬಣ್ಣದ ಭರ್ಜರಿ ಸೀರೆ ಉಟ್ಟು ಕೊಂಡು ಅವನ ಖೋಲಿಯೊಳಗಿಂದ ಹೊರಗೆ ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದಳು. ಮುದುಕಿಯನ್ನು ನೋಡಿದ್ದೇ ಆ ಹೆಂಗಸು ಮುಖ ಮರೆ ಮಾಡಿ ಮನೆಯ ಹೊರಗೆ ಓಡಿ ಹೋಗಿ ಬಿಟ್ಟಳು. ಮುದುಕಿ ಗಂಡನನ್ನು ಎಬ್ಬಿಸಿ ಕೇಳಿದರೆ, ’ಯಾವ ಹೆಣ್ಣು, ಏನು’ ಅಂತ ಅವನೇ ತಿರಗಿ ಕೇಳತಾನೆ. ಗಂಡ ಹೆಂಡತಿಗೆ ಕೈ ಕೈ ಹತ್ತಿಬಿಡತು.  . . . ನಮ್ಮ ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಒಂದು ಕತೆ, ಒಂದು ಹಾಡು ಗೊತ್ತಿವೆ. ಆದರೆ ಆಕೆ ಎಂದೂ ಯಾರಿಗೂ ಆ ಕತೆ ಹೇಳಿಲ್ಲ, ಆ ಹಾಡು ಕೇಳಿಸಿಲ್ಲ. ಆ ಕತೆಗೂ, ಹಾಡಿಗೂ ಒಳಗೇ ಬಿದ್ದುಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದು ಜೀವ ಬೇಸರಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಈ ಹೊತ್ತು ಮುದುಕಿ ಊಟ ಮಾಡಿ ಅಡ್ದ ಆದಳು. ಗೊರಕೆ ಹೊಡೀಲಿಕ್ಕೆ ಬಾಯಿ ತಗೆದಳು. ಕೂಡಲೆ ಕತೆ-ಹಾಡು ಎರಡೂ ಆಕೆಯ ಬಾಯಿಯಿಂದ ಹೊರಗೆ ಜಿಗಿದವು. ಅಟ್ಟ ಏರಿ ಮೂಲೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಅಡಗಿಕೊಂಡು ಕೂತವು. ರಾತ್ರಿ ಮುದುಕ ನಿದ್ದೆ ಹೋಗೋದೇ ತಡ, ಕತೆ ಹುಡುಗಿಯ ರೂಪ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡಿತು. ಹಾಡು ಸೀರೆಯ ರೂಪ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡಿತು. ಮುದುಕಿ ಬರೋಹೊತ್ತಿಗೆ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿ ಹೊರಗೆ ಬಂತು. ಹೀಗೆ ಮನೆಯೊಳಗೆ ಜಗಳ ಹಚ್ಚಿಕೊಟ್ಟು, ಕತೆ-ಹಾಡು ಎರಡೂ ತಮ್ಮ ಸೇಡು ತೀರಿಸಿಕೊಂಡವು.    

                  And for those interested viewers, here is a visual of the opening scene of the story of 'A Story and a Song'. Just to see how the song and the story have developed a life of their own.  

          The following scene is prepared for East 15 Acting School, University of Essex, England, 2013. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iv-LDsIYnTk)

                     Dear reader, I hope you have enjoyed the journey of this single story and song across different cultures and literary genres. Do share your song and story, and hoping to set some things right for myself, I have shared this cautionary tale.  If you are creative, and have a story and a song, better share it!!

Dear Reader, if you are happy to read this blog, please share👇and hit the follow button 👉and if you want to, share this blog with your friends and like-minded readers. Looking forward to your thoughts. Share your comments directly with me at rekhadatta02@gmail.com or message me @rekhadatta1 on Instagram. I shall send the links to you personally. Thank you for your interest. 

     

Basu Chatterjee, the director who loved the 'common' woman and man--A Tribute

Hey. 

4 June 2020 - for the Hindi Film buffs, will be remembered as a day we lost a filmmaker whose canvas depicted the struggles of the urban middle class. Basu Chatterjee (Basu da as he is affectionately called) passed away at the age of 90, leaving behind a cinematic legacy of an emerging middle-class family that struggled to retain its ethical value system in a chameleon-like city that was changing ever so quickly.  I understand that Basu Chatterjee began his career as a cartoonist in the weekly tabloid Blitz, published in Bombay (now, Mumbai).  It is this facet that one gets to see in his cinemas as well- life- sketches with a splash of colour and loads of humour that reveal the underlying reality of the place and people. 

      In the 1980s, television Doordarshan, without the competing, commercialised Cable network with its saas-bahu series, offered some quality TV time on Saturdays and Sundays. It aired some very important regional and national programs. The focus of many of these series was the city and its changes--Rajani, Byomakesh Bakshi, Nukkad, Wagle ki Duniya, Munshi Premchand Ki Kahaniya and the evergreen Malgudi Days by late Shankar Nag. All this was of course on the National DD in Hindi language. In this conglomeration of serials, Rajani and Byomakesh Bakshi directed by Basu Chatterjee drew immense popularity.  Both had popular, interesting and contemporary themes. Rajani was the first of the serials that carried one of Basu da's important visions -- a woman from an urban middle-class family who was struggling to run a home efficiently, with a limited income. Rajani is first the 'hero' who is a 'common man'-a woman - who registers her voice against corruption--with the govt, with a corrupt ration-keeper,  filing a customer complaint when customers' rights were not so fashionable. Each episode was worth the wait. It gave the middle class a sense of power, and agency and at the same time hope that situations will change with each fight. 

             The 1970s and '80s were a time when stars ruled the box office and stardom was at its peak. This was the time when the 'angry young man' hero was the most popular, formulaic cinemas made it to the box office hits and got the actors awards and catapulted them to stardom. At the same time, 'art films' made its presence felt with Satyajit Ray, Shyam Benegal, Ritwik Ghatak, Girish Karnard, Mrinal Sen who gave films like Seemabadha, Manthan, Ankur, Jukti takko aar gappo, Ghatashraddha. Basu da's cinemas were made during this period when the 'macho' hero and 'glamourous leading lady' were important for the success of the movie or a highly artistic depiction of people in the 'art' cinema.   

                 It was in this context that Basu Chatterjee and Hrishikesh Mukherjee presented an entirely new set of cinematic narratives. Hrishikesh Mukherjee made movies like Anand, Golmaal, Guddi, etc. His movies too presented ordinary situations in family life-Bawarchi or the ego conflict between a successful couple-Abhimaan, or an extremely emotionally gripping, box-office superhit Anand. At the same time, Basu Chatterjee's Chitchor, Piya ka Ghar, and Rajanigandha attracted the audience. Thus, Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee presented the third dimension of Hindi cinema. They stuck a golden mean --between the formulaic popular cinemas and the much-required, yet, very serious art cinemas. Their cinemas told the story of the common man and their struggle in their everyday life at its simplest best. Another interesting feature of their cinemas was the popular feature-soulful music. Yesu Das sang for Basu Chatterjee for the first time in the movie Chitchor.  The songs, like their narratives, were a beautiful blend of the 'classic' and 'popular'. And most significant, the location of their cinemas wasn't some exotic location that was fast becoming a trend. Their narratives were set in a familiar urban setting. They were setting a new trend that was distinct, unique and had light-hearted humorous entertainment at its heart. They created an audience base for their movies--an audience that enjoyed the simple, straightforward narrative with a theme that they also related to.   

            And Basu da did stand tall in his presentation of people in his cinemas. Most of the movies had a nervous, not-so-good-looking, not very successful or struggling 'hero' and this representation holds good for his women protagonists as well. Amol Palekar was that actor who could depict such a common man on screen. His narrative depicts a hero who was an ordinary clerk in an office (Chitchor), an accountant (Choti si baat), Rajanigandha who engages the audience with a young woman who has to choose between a young man who is simple,  loving and her boyfriend with whom she had broken off due to bitter circumstances. Make no mistake, his central characters bore an inimical resemblance to people in their everyday life. So were his supporting actors and actresses. This was another important aspect of Basuda's vision. He presented people and situations and so, his cinemas were more like the 'slice of life' rather than an 'imitation of life' or 'larger than life'.  However, make no mistake, Basu da's narratives were never boring; there was a mischievousness that pervaded the narrative, a divergent vision. Perhaps this was the influence that cartoonist Basu da had on the filmmaker Basu da. May the storyteller rest in peace. 

For those interested movie buffs, here is a list of the Basu da, with some lovely, melodious music--

1. Choti si baat (a nervous young man and his adventure to win his ladylove)

2. Piya ka Ghar (the story of a young girl who learns to live in Mumbai's apartment)

3. Chitchor (A typical village girl chooses to marry an assistant over an engineer)

4. Shaukeen (a much futuristic cinema of old men and their fascination for young women)

5. Humari Bahu Alka (a movie about marriage, parenting and priorities)

6. Chameli Ki Shaadi (a satire on the caste system and one of the earliest feminist films that have the heroine expressing her desire to marry the man she loves)

Please do share your favourites from Basu da in the comment box below.  

Please share your comments directly with me at rekhadatta02@gmail.com or message me @rekhadatta1 on Instagram. I shall send the links to you personally. Thanks for your patience.