Chakravyuh!

I really cannot decide what disturbed me more in the movie- the repeated gunshots and eye-for-eye game of murders, or the fact that it’s all true. Prakash Jha’s Chakravyuh has a name befitting the story. You can go in but then never come out. 

The story begins with a bloody massacre of policemen by Naxals in the forests of Nandighat, a region ruled by the rebels. In spite of all the dangers of merely being in the region, SP Adil Khan (Arjun Rampal) agrees to be posted in the region where someone’s always planning to kill him. Adil is the righteous policeman who couldn’t care less about his own safety, always puts duty first and listens to no one. Not his wife (Esha Gupta), nor his childhood friend Kabir (Abhay Deol). 

At this point I began to notice how ruggedly handsome Arjun Rampal looks in uniform. But again, back to the story. Mr.Righteous Khan dares to go to villagers governed by Naxals and give them the idea that they can actually live without fear of being killed! (How outrageous!) The Naxals led by Rajan (Manoj Bajpayee) are not happy, and killing the SP goes first on their to-do list. They almost succeed too. 

But then enter Kabir. With his casual charm and adorable voice (that guy can make anything sound cute!) he presents Adil with an alternate plan to tackle the issue. Send Charming Mr.Dimples to the Naxal group to be their Comrade, and get them to trust him enough to share all their information and he can keep the police informed of all their movements, make their capture sound like a children’s game of hide and seek. 

The plan actually works; Kabir the Abhimanyu gets into the Chakravyuh with his conversational skills and intelligence, after he breaks a policeman’s nose, gets shot a couple of times and wanders ‘unintentionally’ into the forest. Within no time he is Comrade Kabir, stealing information from the camp and passing it on to Adil, while stealing glances at Juhi (Anjali Patil). 

All is going well with the plan, and Adil audaciously boasts in front of the media that he has developed Intelligence that knows everything the Naxals are up to. Meanwhile Kabir is busy getting close to his comrades, understanding their ways, and falling in love with Juhi. Slowly, from Kabir's view we discover the horrific truth and the reason behind this bloody mutiny, and all the questions it raises in Kabir’s mind. For the first time in life he has to choose between right and wrong, and he can’t. 

The actors have done a fine job of portraying the serious situation, while Manoj Bajpayee especially excels in his role as Rajan. He is not evil; he does not enjoy the violence. He is agitated of being cheated and deprived of a good life since birth, and is simply fighting for it. Arjun Rampal is one of the few actors who can don the police attire and pull it off, and does a great job with it. Abhay Deol, as I said before, makes everything sound cute even if he is seriously threatening to kill someone. But still, he is a wonderful actor and suits the role. Meanwhile Esha Gupta, as a policewoman, as a policeman’s wife and a Naxalite’s best friend, does nothing much but pout. But that’s okay; Anjali Patil makes her presence felt loud enough for both the women. 

Prakash Jha has portrayed the issue of Naxalism without taking stand for or against any side.  The film boldly raises questions like are all Naxals evil killers, and captures the emotional turmoils of youngsters who are so agitated with the system that they are forced to pick up the gun and yell Lal Salaam! For someone who studies the subject, the movie almost speaks their mind. For someone who has no idea what lies beyond their own little urban world, the issue is explained from scratch to make sure it is understood.

All in all, the movie is a complete package of suspense, romance and some statistics and bitter truths about our troubled country. India has entered and is stuck within this Chakravyuh of Naxalism, and still does not know how to come out. 

Rating: 3.5/5

Blink

Blink

And there is a footstep I could follow.

Blink

And now there is just snow.

Blink

And there is a flash of light.

Blink

And it’s darker even more.

Where’s my big revelation

That I had a heartbeat ago?

Why, now, is everything dark,

And filled with snow?

Yesterday I complained,

Of a room too bright, a sweater too warm and light

Of soup too tasty and bread to fluffy and white!

Today I sit, cold and confused

Alone, my unhappy mind left loose.

I muse

About yesterday and all that I had,

“How imperfect it was, so bad!

How could I be happy?

I have so much to lose!”

Blink

And I had it all, but I complain.

Blink

And I lose it all and complain again.

Blink

And the light and footprints disappear,

Blink

And I’m left clueless again.

(This is just the sensible part of my mind yelling at the other, whiny unhappy part of my mind.. nothing too serious!)

Dialogues in my head

“What would it take to get

That hint of a smile on your face,

That twinkles of your eye stand out in the haze?”

“It is already there, don’t you see?

A wall of indifference

Is all that’s between you and me”

“It’s not what’s there, but what is not.

But I sure sense a lost happy-song

That’s gone for I wonder how long..”

“Read me for what I say, read me for what I do.

But my happy-song only plays

In my happy place, unknown to you!”

“Give me a smile that lights up the room,

Give me a giggle that jingles like chimes,

Give me a laugh that so mesmerizing that

I may forget to rhyme!”

“Quit searching me for answers,

And for scattered joy.

Just don’t ask me why.

Ask me if I’m fine, don’t wait for a reply.

Quit trying to read me,

That’s all I want you to do.

Because the happy-song I lost,

Plays in my happy place unknown to you!”

My shoes, your shoes

Yesterday I was going ga-ga over pretty peep-toes and pumps, craving for new shoes. Today somehow the same word directed to a different conversation in my head. Going through this post and a friend of mine reacting to it in her blog, it got me thinking. 

There was a time when we humans were all kind, and selfless, and considerate of each other. I’m not good with dates so I don’t know when exactly that was. But now, all said and done, to be kind to someone we have to stand in their shoes and empathise. And I’m sorry, but others’ shoes don’t fit me at all! I wear my own pair of soiled grimy ones and I like to complain!

Complaining comes easily, while shopping for groceries, driving in maddening traffic, hiring an auto in the city, standing in a queue…….! Does this list ever end? Every shoe comes with an opinion; mine came with a burning hate for auto drivers, buses, bikes, cars, pedestrians, cyclists, gift shop owners, customer service…! We have been cheated or annoyed by everyone, and we are on a life’s mission to get even with each one. Kindness is absolutely jobless here!

For example, I go back home from work every day by car (which my dad drives), around 6:30 in the evening. That is when all offices close, buses are crowded, kids cycle back home from tuitions, and people take evening walks in the dust. And the relationship between my father and me is such that, while other little princesses give their dads nice teddy bear hugs, we express our love by complaining about the traffic. Every evening. 

“Look at those bikers speeding! They could get hit and they don’t care!”

“It’s such a big car in such a small road!”

“These pedestrians have no sense of discipline! They just cross the road like we’re invisible!”

And last but not the least..

“Why the high beams??? You’re not on a highway!!”

Well, I stand by the last one. But when I go on a bike I prefer to squeeze between the heavy vehicles and speed away, not bothering about the big cars stuck in a jam. If there is a slight mishap, everyone yells at everyone, when it takes hardly a minute to say “Sorry” and move on. When I’m crossing the street I expect a speeding car to wait for me. Honk more than once and I would be all “Oh Mr.Big Shot had a car and wants everyone out of his way! This is not your street and I’m not moving faster for your sake!” 

I’m just saying, I’m in my shoes and it is really comfortable. I refuse to try on everyone’s hoes and be kind to every person a meet, because then I will never have my way!

So bottom line- yes it is tough to be kind. I wish it was easier. I wish we could wash all that filth out of our shoes…. I wish it was that simple..!

A tiny love story

“Will I find my dream guy?” 

“You don’t have to. He’ll call you” said the guy.

She laughed and hung up.

Her phone rang. It was him again.

"Hello?"

“See, I told you he’d call” said the guy.

And that’s... How I met your mother

Soaking Pink

Soak. It won’t stop raining outside and the washing machine still says soak. I may have to dry these with the hair dryer again, I thought. And I really wanted that little pink top that was soaking beneath the layers of bed sheets and towels, washed and dried as soon as possible.

“Pink suits you” he had said. So obviously I have to wear pink for our first meeting, and I had only one pink top. Soiled from last week’s puddle fiasco. Still soaking. The machine made gurgling noises like a happy baby who just burped. Gurgle-gurgle. And I went through the whole story of how I’m going to get late tomorrow. Unexpectedly.

“Call after class, tell her the class got postponed, tell her it will take two hours more, go on your date or whatever, call again and say there’s too much traffic, after you’re done call her and say you’re leaving, reach home and go straight to your room” Were some of the breathless suggestions I got from my friends.

I tried it. Later, I ended up telling the truth anyway.

 “Are you freaking crazy?? You can’t be serious, no no no you can’t say anything, she’ll freak out, blah blah………” After a while it was just noise. So here I was, mentally rehearsing my lie and mutely watching my dress of destiny soak away to glory. Oh my God just wash it already!!!

It had been just ten minutes since I threw the top in there, but I had snapped already. I stopped the washing machine, fished it out and started scrubbing the brown spots with my fingers. Tomorrow my handshake won’t be as delicate as I hoped, but he’ll understand. I hope. If mom would see me now! I smiled imagining the expression on her face of she saw me on the bathroom floor, hands full of detergent, scrubbing clothes.

She’ll be suspicious. “Yeah, don’t do anything suspicious like you do. You’re a terrible liar, you get so giggly, you start sweating and all, so just dress casually, don’t war make up, keep it in your bag if you want blah blah…” The girls have always been breathless while they talked and the thought of me going to meet a guy made them even more so.

I scrubbed until my fingers burned, and rinsed it again and again. Slush is not easily removed from light coloured clothes, and there were still a few light rings of brown on the side of the baby pink top. I can’t just pretend that’s a design……. And I gave up.

So finally on the 3^rd of August I went on a date with a dreamy guy, wearing something clean and blue.

“You look pretty. Green suits you” he said as soon as we sat down for coffee.

“This is blue” I gave him a weird look. But it didn’t matter. My pink top still soaked while we giggled and held hands at the coffee house.

And then came 4^th August, when I happened to attend a Bloggers meet. Surf Excel spread itself all over the place chanting “Soak no more”. Well, what can I say Pink Top.. You were just not meant to be what I wore when I met my soulmate. 

Again, what's love?

(Valentine's Day is months away but these thoughts just don't leave me!)

Too many debates start with “What is love?”

One day, yet again
A weary conversation was led
Where suit-clad big shot said
Love is the purest form of emotion
Between man and woman
Wrong, once they grow up there is no more love

Said the young lady with a tattoo on her sleeve
Love is the hedonic electricity
Between cupid-stuck teenagers
Wrong, said the plump woman in pink
Until they grow up they aren’t in love
Well, you grew up. Are you in love?

Calm down ladies, now, now…
Why does love have to be for the opposite sex?
Said the gadget-loving, bike riding guy next
While the girl with the tattoo texted
Her temporary soul mate
That she’ll be late
Stuck with a bunch of love-less lunatics
“..Mother and child, brother and sister..”
The artist continued to list
The technical types of love
Desperately trying to be different
And enter
Two men, hand in hand
Wearing each a wedding band
And catch up on the debate
And the speaker, relieved, raises the question again
The question that triggered
A tiny war between generations
“What is love?”

Outside air conditioned room
Where debaters fly at each other
A puppy lies on the pavement
Its blood trailing from the middle of the road
Puppy crushed under a truck load
A puny little boy, also crushed
Looks back at his shed where under a half constructed building
Everyone is busy building
The tallest apartment of the city
Brick laying, cementing
The puny kid silently, gently holding
The half dead puppy
His little hands caked with
Dust from passing the bricks
Tears streaming down his blackened face
Whispering in his own blubbering language
“Don’t leave me my friend..
I love you so much..”

And the third time, again
Up in the air conditioned room
The calm one (still!) asks again
“What is love?”
Answer me now…