Colin Firth’s Speech

As it appears, the Academy awards, the Oscars, are no longer the signifier of a particular artist’s performance in a particular role in a particular year. Rather, it’s an award for making up for missed opportunities. It’s a trend for quite a while now. A few years back, Martin Scorcese finally received the Best Director statuette for a film (The Departed) which is certainly not his best work. Nicole Kidman did not win an award for Moulin Rogue, so she was given an award the next year for The Hours, a role which certainly did not qualify as lead. (I think the Julian Moore character was the lead in the film, as she connects the other two strands of the film). So, there you are.

This year, Colin Firth was the sure shot winner for Best Actor for his performance as the king with speech problem in The King's Speech, none could stop him from winning this year, especially when he was nominated last year for the far superior A Single Man (in terms of his acting histrionics at least), and lost to Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart). Bridges, on the other hand, was nominated several times earlier, starting with his debut in The Last Picture Show, and also for Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, Starman, and The Contender. He was nominated this year as well, for Coen Brothers’ True Grit, which raked up 10 nominated and failed to win a single one. Coming back to Firth, he is such a fine actor, he deserves the award anyway. Can you mention a Firth film where he was not good? It would be very difficult. He was charming even in films like Mamma Mia! and Nanny McPhee. I liked him most, however, in Love, Actually, and Bridget Jones’ Diary.

The same is the case with Melissa Leo. She was nominated in the Best Actress category for Frozen River in 2008, a far stronger performance compared to the winner Kate Winslet for The Reader. Again, Winslet is a fine performer who had been nominated several times before (Titanic, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Little Children). Therefore, this year Leo was awarded for her supporting turn as the domineering mother in The Fighter. (It’s interesting how all the supporting cast in the film was nominated, except the lead, played by Mark Wahlberg). Even Christian Bale took home an Oscar in the supporting actor category for the same film. Was the award an attempt to appease the fans of The Dark Knight who are still smarting how the Nolan film was snubbed by the Academy. This year, Christopher Nolan’s Inception took home three technical awards. Just that. (Personally, I still cannot fathom why Shutter Island was completely ignored.)

Natalie Portman in the Best Actress category for Black Swan was also a lock. How can you pass up the chance to give her an award when she has been around since she was 14, with her breakout role in Leon.

If you go by this, there is much hope for David Fincher, the director of The Social Network, who was upset by Tom Hooper for The King’s Speech. Fincher was nominated in 2008 as well, for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and lost to Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire), not to mention, Seven, and Fight Club. Boyle was in race this year as well, for 127 Hours. Perhaps Fincher’s remake of the Swedish masterpiece The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, will strike gold for him. We are keeping our fingers crossed.

Easy A

It’s surprising that a Hollywood teen comedy understand the 19th Century puritanical tragedy, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘The Scarlet Letter,’ and finds a comic possibility there and gives us a film that is intelligent and very funny, not in a slapstick way.

Easy A tells the story of a teenager who tells a lie to save her face, and soon, as the rumours spread, things go out of hand. And, as the protagonist, Olive, Emma Stone gives a star-making performance, ably supported by Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson, as her supporting parents. (When her friend comes to their door and asks, Is Olive there, Clarkson’s mom replies, there’s whole jar in the fridge.)

To avoid spending the weekend with her best friend and her obnoxious family, Olive tells her that she has a date with a college-going boy. Later, she also admits to having sex with the ‘boyfriend’. Soon, the news spreads like wildfire that Olive is sleeping with an older boy. When she is labels as whore, Olive goes a step further and becomes the Hester Prynne of ‘The Scarlet Letter,’ by wearing the ‘A’ on her dresses, which leads to a series of comic interlude, which talks a lot about sex, without any real activity. And thankfully, it’s not the American Pie variety.

Burlesque

Burlesque, starring Cher and Christina Aguilera, is a film made by gay men for gay men. I don’t known about the makers, but the film is surely targetted to a gay audience. Otherwise, how do you explain the stripping of the Jack character? And oh, he uses eyeliners, but he’s not gay. And, who are the Cher fan, other then the gay men? (I like the Roger Ebert comment: “Other people age, Cher becomes a logo.”)

However, it’s little tiring to see Stanley Tucci playing another gay character, and doing the same routine as he did in The Devil Wears Prada. But, this film, targetted at the gay audience, gives him a happy ending, with the gorgeous DJ Mark falling for him.

Ebert also said, the film treats Burlesque as if it died and went to heaven. That’s Hollywood for you. To have a feel what modern Burlesque is really like, please refer to Mathieu Amalric’s 2010 French film Tournée, which features an American Neo-Burlesque troupe, played by genuine performers Mimi Le Meaux, Kitten on the Keys, Dirty Martini, Julie Atlas Muz, Evie Lovelle and Roky Roulette. Amalric won the best director trophy at the Cannes film festival.

Back to Burlesque, it’s a five-minute joke about air right presented as a song and dance fare. However, Aguilera as a small-town girl has certain charm. Her eventual rise and rivalry with fellow dancers reminded me of Black Swan. What a comparison!

Monsters

Directed by: Gareth Edwards
Produced by: Allan Niblo; James Richardson
Written by: Gareth Edwards
Starring: Whitney Able; Scoot McNairy
Music by: Jon Hopkins
Cinematography: Gareth Edwards
Release date(s): October 29, 2010 (US)
Running time: 94 minutes
Country: United Kingdom
Language: English; Spanish
Budget: Under $500,000
Gross revenue $3,486,280

What do you expect when the film is called Monsters? You expect monsters, of course. But Gareth Edwards’ film is anything but about monsters per say, especially in the context of Hollywood monster movies. The monsters are there, creatures which are a cross between spiders and octopuses, with long slimy tentacles, and as the film ends, they perform a stunt never seen in any monster movie ever made.

For me, it was this ending that left a bad taste in the mouth. It’s a small film brilliantly paced and magnificently photographed (a boat on a tree, a plane in the water... it helps when the director is also the cinematographer.). But the ending, — “love conquers all” — destroyed everything for me.

You can call Monsters a District 9 in Mexico, or a sci-fi Sin Nombre, where the script is aware of the political reality between Mexico and the US, and the plight of the common man in the crossfire.

In not so distant future, an NASA aircraft carrying some alien lifeform crash-lands near the Mexico-US border. As the alien lifeform flourishes, and the US government tries to clean up the land with toxic chemicals and explosives, and builds a wall across the border to protect their country, the poor Mexicans learn to live with the threat, where death is an everyday possibility.

Under these circumstances, a freelance photographer is given a task to safely escort his American boss’s daughter out of Mexico, where she was vacationing. Here, the film turns into a road movie, shot in a documentary fashion.

Like all classic road movies, the film begins with the protagonists at the loggerheads. Samantha accuses Andrew that he is always looking for bad news so that he can photograph them and earn some money. Andrew argues that with that same photograph, her father, the media mogul, would earn five times the more. Andrew is jealous of Sam’s privileges, Sam envies Andrew’s freedom. They start travelling by train, which is soon cancelled as the reach near the ‘infected zone’. They decide to journey on foot, taking help from the locals who have learned to live with the aliens. (Apparently, the creatures appear only at night, and they normally don’t attack you unless you provoke them.)

The pair then decides to take a ferry to America, with host of hopeful migrants to the land of plenty (If it reminds you of the riveting Sin Nombre, it does.) The ferry fair is exorbitant, but they take it nonetheless. Then, in the convenience of a road movie, the girl’s passport is lost, and they miss the boat. The next option is to go though the ‘infected zone’, which is dangerous and illegal. The pair, Andrew and Sam, decides to take the risks. They travel on a jeep, a boat, a jeep again, on foot, through eerily quiet jungles, and then a ghost town on the American soil. On the way, they see glimpses of the monsters, experience the fear of anticipation, see their companions hunted by the creatures, and feel the exhilaration of being alive.

All these are done in an unassuming quietness of a National Geographic documentary, than a Hollywood blockbuster, you know what I mean.

Wikipedia tells me that Edwards made the film on a very limited budget and with only a handful of crews. Except the lead actors, all other actors were local non-actors, who were told they were filming a documentary, and most of their dialogues were improvised. The result is fascinating. The film invites the audience to take the journey along with Sam and Andrew, and as you go along, the landscape looks so real, it feel it’s actually happening. The tone here is far more realistic than the showy District 9.

There is a scene in the middle of the film. The boat reaches a shore, with one security with a gun standing there. The place is eerily deserted. There is a broken staircase that leads to the jungle. As the dusk begins to fall, they hear an unusual sound in the air. The monster does not appear. But the fear the sound exudes is palpable. This sense of prevailing fear permeates the entire film, which sets it apart from a typical horror/monster film. There is no attempt for cheap thrills here. The location itself is the site of horror. And the special effects (which Edwards created on his laptop) is understated, in an anti-Michael Bay way.

But, the end! Despite everything, at the end Monsters could not escape from the clichés of the rom-com road film, and for that matter, any boy-meet-girl movie. And when monsters make love, we mere mortals will have to follow.

On Libraries

In ancient times, libraries were known as ‘temples of soul’; it was a place where knowledge was available to all. Even in this age of information explosion, libraries have not lost their importance, especially in India where a sizeable number of population do not have the means and opportunity to education. However, the government has not done enough to promote reading habits through public libraries, despite promulgating a law as early as 1967, said Shankar Gavhane, director, Pune district library association.

The Maharashtra Public Libraries Act was passed in 1967 at the Nagpur Session of the Maharashtra Legislature. It was brought into force on May 1, 1968, the Maharashtra Day. The Act provides for uniform Public Library System in the state and uniform scale of grant-in-aid.

According to the provisions of the Act, every village in the state should have a public library. According to Gavhane, this is easier said than done. “When there are villages without schools, how can you expect libraries in every village,” he said. The state gives grants to these libraries, but this is after a library is opened by a local trust. The trust then registers the library with the charity commissioner, after which the grant is issued. Gavhane said the process needs time and bureaucratic known-how, not to mention an existing infrastructure, and for most villagers, the task is daunting.

As a result, schoolchildren in the villages are missing out on an important facility to help their growth. Gavhane, also an assistant librarian with a reputed city-based college, understands the importance of the role public libraries can play and, is working towards spreading awareness about the need for public libraries in every village in the state.

According to census records, the 35 districts in the state have 43,722 villages. Pune district alone has around 1,866 villages. However, said Gavhane, there are only 600 public libraries in the district and this is indeed a paltry number.
Gavhane also wants greater connectivity among the existing libraries...

(I was working on this a while ago, but it did not come to fruition. Pity.)

Planes, Trains & Automobiles

No, this is not about the 1987 film where Steve Martin goes through a series of misadventures involving various modes of transport, with an obnoxious travel companion (which was remade as insipid ‘Due Date’ with Robert Downey Jr last year). This is about me travelling the better part of last week, using various modes of transport, to illustrate... what exactly? I don’t know. Here’s the itinerary, anyway.

February 13: Azad Hind Express. From Pune to Howrah. The scheduled departure time is 6.25 pm. However, these days it has been changed to 2.45 am the next morning. After the nexals attacked the Howrah-Mumbai Jnaneshwari Express somewhere between West Bnagal-Chattisgad border a few month’s back, all trains on the route have tried to avoid passing the area during the night. Hence, the change in timing so that we can pass the naxal-infested areas in broad daylight.

February 14: Board the train and off to sleep. Sleep the entire day. There is nothing much to do on an AC compartment. Unlike passengers on a Second Class coach, commuters travelling AC do not like to interact with each other. Fair enough. I myself is not a great talker. However, I love to look at the countryside as the train passes though the changing landscape that’s truly Indian. Where else would you find the landscape changing every hour! But in an AC compartment the view is blocked by the tinted windows. It’s no fun. No breakfast and lunch, just 15 cups of tea, each costing Rs 5. At 11 pm, egg biryani, a small portion of biryani rice and an egg covered in a silver foil, costing Rs 50, for dinner. Spent the evening reading ‘Beyond Indigo,’ an almost chick-lit by London-based Indian author Preethi Nair. A finely realised novel nonetheless.

February 15: We pass the ‘naxal infested’ danger zone without any incident. Since the train was already late, it is delayed further. I am little worried as I have a connecting train to catch at 3.55 pm at the Howrah station. Again skip breakfast, lunch. Plan to have a gourmet meal at Howrah, with fish and all.
... ... Finally, the train pulls in at Howrah. Thank God, I still have two hour to catch the other train. A nice walk from the far end of the new platform (No 21) to the far end of the old platform (No 8), which are housed at two separate buildings. No time for meal. Two egg rolls and a small pot of misti doi. Wait for the platform to be announced. As usual, the station is overcrowded. It’s quite hot even if it’s the fag end of winter. The train usually leaves from platform No 8; there’s a Patna-bound train standing there. Panic; 3.40 pm and no platform is scheduled for my train. Another five minutes and there it is, platform No 9. Crowd in front of the board displaying the reservation chart. I had an RAC (reservation against cancellation), it’s confirmed now; I need to find the coach number. It’s S9. Yes, this time I am travelling Second Class. It’s just a night’s journey.
... ... The Saraighat Express (Alludes to the battle between the Mughal, and the Ahom army led by legendary Lachit Borphukan near Guwahati). From Howrah to Guwahati. Some more sleep. It was tiring running from platform to platform dragging my bag. Wake up for dinner. This time semblance of a proper menu — rice, daal, and a dish that suspiciously looks like matar-paneer (green peas with cottage cheese). A chat with fellow travellers, a large group of youngsters from Bongaigaon who are returning after attending a wedding in a town near Kolkata.

February 16: The wedding party alights at 6 pm. I have still four more hours to go.
… … Kamakhyagate station. Now, an autorickshaw to home. The auto guy asks for Rs 120 for the approximately 10-km ride. His excuse, you don’t get any passengers in the return.
… … Home.

February 17: Have to catch the bus to Silchar, headquarters of Cachar, a district in Assam, some 12 hours journey by bus from Guwahati. The bus leaves at 6.30 pm. Leave home at 2 pm; I will be late if there’s a traffic jam on the way (Traffic jams are becoming a everyday thing in Guwahati; the numbers of vehicles are rising whereas the size of the roads remain the same.)
… … City bus to Kachari, the DC court area.
… … A cycle rickshaw from Kachari to Paltan Bazaar, as the city bus would take a turn at Guwahati club and go the other way.
… … Wait at the bus agent’s counter, who will take me to the ISBT (Inter-State Bus Terminus, located at the outskirts of the city. It was actually an outskirts a few years back when the plan was proposed, now it’s a sprawling suburb, thanks to, among other things, the growth of the city.)
… … An open-hood jeep to ISBT. A half-an-hour journey through the maddening evening traffic under the drizzling rain. Almost an unreal experience of suffocation and exhilaration.
… … A semi-luxury bus. Window seat, number 10. The full moon in the clear sky. Looking forward to great views. All set for Silchar.
… … The bumps begin, the road gets narrower, curvy, the landscape bathed in moonlight comes closer and closer, you can stretch your hands and touch the hill, the fence of the a little house, pluck a berry from the tree or ruffle the hair of the old man returning home after his quota of drinks — the road is that narrow! This is by the way National Highway No 37, which will soon branch off to NH 40 and NH 53, and things will get worse.
… … This is a national highway. My friends had told me that the journey would be a bumpy ride. That’s an understatement; here there’s no road. While we talk about eight-lane highways (I have seen such roads, the Pune-Mumbai expressway, for example), there’s no road here, just broken pathways, where two vehicles cannot pass at the same time. What’s worse, this is the only road that connects several states, like Meghalaya and Mizoram.

February 18: … … Midnight. Shillong. I can touch the sleeping city from the window of my bus, the tiny houses plastered on the hill (I want to live in a house like that), churches, schools...
… … 3 am. A halt for an hour. Pee break. Traffic jam; probably some small car had tried to overtake a truck and is struck. It may take another hour.
… … 3.30 am. The bus moves at a snail’s pace. You look out of the window and see the truck drivers on the other side. You can count them, the line is endless — you can stare at their faces as they stare at yours. Unreal.
… … 6.30 am. A halt. It’s a narrow valley between two hill. In between is a river. There was a bridge once, probably built by the British, you can see the broken columns on the either side. The middle part has vanished. Next to it is an iron bridge, one of those emergency bridges that army make. Only one vehicle can pass at one time. So you wait till your turn comes, the wait can be endless.
… … 9.30 am. Silchar city. Autorickhaw to Assam University, on a hillock outside the city for Rs 200. The richshaw driver has the same excuse, no passenger in the return. On the way, he picks up passengers for short distances, an old man back from the vegetable market, a woman taking her three daughters to school, a man visiting someone at the medical college, all for small changes, Rs 5 or 10.
… … 4.45 pm. Assam University. The Assam University bus. It’s a facility I wish the university I studied had. The university runs a bus service that shuttles between the university and the centre of the city, on a scheduled time, for the students, whereas others are allowed to avail the facilities. Unlike other public transport facility, the fair is a minimal Rs 4 for everyone, for any distance. (I gave the conductor Rs 5 and he did not return me the change.) I sit in the cabin, next to the driver. He is a chatty old fellow and I become quite pally with him. Perhaps he gets a chance to speak to me in Assamese. Though the place is a part of the state of Assam, the dominant language here is Bengali, since the land was once part of what is now Bangladesh. And, the Bengali spoken here isn’t the same as the Bengali spoken in West Bengal. I understand and speak Bengali, but I could not understand much of what the local residents here spoke. They spoke with a twang and they ate most of their words. Anyways, when the chatty driver learns that I am on my way back to Guwahati, he wonders if I would get a bus. The last bus to Guwahati leaves the city at 6.30 pm. I have some time.
… … 5.50 pm. We reach the city. Our chatty driver stops the bus in the middle of the road to point to me a bus agency on the other side of the road. Then he shouts at one of the men standing there to help me find a bus to Guwahati. I tell him thank you in a huff and jump from the bus and meet the man. The man takes me to a young boy on the bus counter who picks up the phone and calls someone up. Then he tells me that the bus leaves in 20 minutes from another part of the city and there’s no way I can reach there in 20 minutes. What do I do? He and the other man suggest that I go to the office of another service provider at the next junction. Their last bus may still be there. The man hails an auto for me, and fixes a price with the driver, Rs 50. And what if the bus has left from there too? The man then tells the rickshawalla to take me to Rampur, located outside the city where the Silchar ISBT stands.
… … 6.10 pm. Office of the Capital transport, which is eerily empty. The woman on the counter tells me that all buses have left. The last chance is the ISBT, that too if I reach there on time. I ask the rickshaw driver to take me to Rampur. He says it would cost me Rs 200, including the earlier Rs 50.
… … 6.30 pm. Still in the rickshaw. We have left the city, as our vehicle navigates though lots of large trucks. I am not sure where I am going. I think of Plan B, what I would do if I don’t get the bus. I will have to ask my rickshaw driver to take me to a hotel. Another Rs 100 for sure.
… … 6.44 pm. The ISBT. As we enter, we see the lone bus getting ready to leave the bus terminus. The rickshaw driver goes ahead and parks his vehicle right in front of the bus, and I shout, Guwahati, Guwahati.
… … 6.50 pm. I pay the rickshaw driver. There’s is one last seat, near the window. Fare Rs 380. While coming I had paid Rs 350. It’s gonna be a really bumpy ride.

February 19: Shillong. 6.30 am. The sleeping city comes to life.
… … 8.30 am. Two kilometres away from Shilling.
… … 10.00 am. Jorabat. Another hour’s journey to Guwahati. Usually the journey from Shillong to Guwahati takes three hours. Rush hour traffic jam, and endless waiting. I snooze.
… … 11.00 am. Still at Jorabat.
… … 11.45 am. Finally, the ISBT.
… … 11.50 am. A open-hood jeep to Jalukbari.
… … 12.10 pm. A city bus from Jalukbari.
… … 12.40 pm. Home.

February 20: Home.

February 21: My brother drops me at the airport on his bike. It takes 15 minutes from my home to reach the Lokapriya Gopinath Bordoloi international airport. The flight is at 2.45 pm.
… … 3.45 pm. Agartala, the capital of Tripura, one of the seven North Eastern states.
… … 6.00 pm. The Subhash Chnadra Bose airport in Kolkata.
… … 8.40 pm. The Mumbai airport.
… … 9.10 pm. The highway outside the Mumbai airport. As I reach there, there’s a Maruti Esteem waiting for passengers to Pune. How much? Rs 300. Quote reasonable, considering that the AC bus costs Rs 350. The bus stand is at Dadar, quite a distance from Santacruz. Taxi will take at least Rs 50. So I settle for the car. But it won’t move till it gets three more passengers.
… 9.40 pm. Finally, the required number. And we are off to Pune.
… 1.30 am. Pune. Now, I will have to walk home for at least 15 minutes, braving the menacing street dogs, who become king of the road post-midnight.
1.50 am. My flat in Pune. Home Sweet Home.

When The Last Sword Is Drawn

Directed by: Yojiro Takita
Produced by: Nozomu Enoki; Hideji Miyajima
Written by: Jiro Asada (story); Takehiro Nakajima;
Starring: Kiichi Nakai; Koichi Sato; Yui Natsukawa; Takehiro Murata
Music by: Joe Hisaishi
Cinematography: Takeshi Hamada
Editing by: Nobuko Tomita
Distributed by: Shochiku
Release date(s): 2003
Running time: 137 min
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese

The Story (//from the net//): Hajime Saito (Koichi Sato) brings his little son (grandson) to a doctor. At the doctor's home he discovers a photo of a samurai he shared an important part of his past with. Saito's memories take him back to the year 1868 when he was a member of the "Shinsengumi", an unit of elite warriors, who had sworn loyalty to the Shogun. The samurai Kanichiro Yoshimura (Kiichi Nakai) also earns a spot in the Shinsengumi, but Saito hates his guts. In a duel Saito tries to slay the "Farmer"-Samurai, who left his family and betrayed his clan in order to feed his wife and kids. However, he has to realize that Yoshimura is an exceptionally well-versed fighter.
Among his comrades Yoshimura has a rather bad reputation, since he is always making an effort to stay alive in the duels he has to fight, which stands in contrast to what the way of a samurai teaches, and because he tries to get some money out of every task he is assigned to. Nonetheless, Saito has to find out that Yoshimura actually knows what loyalty truely means. Thus, the two slowly become friends in a time where samurais are no longer needed and have their last battle ahead of them...

When a film inspires you to read more about the history of the time it is based on, you should consider the film a success, not only as a narrative artifact, but also as a testament of human history. The 2003 Japanese film, When the Last Sword is Drawn, wins on both counts, despite the fact that the film has its shares of problem (to begin with, it needed some editing, the later half is unusually melodramatic.). Yet, the film not only tells an epic story of a man’s quest to survive and to support his family, it also tells the story of time a-changing, where the codes which once ruled a man’s life are no longer valued, where the medieval Japan is slowly opening up to the modern world (the rifles instead of the sword, hence the title), where the feudal system is in the wane and the rule of the emperor is back (Meiji restoration), where being a Samurai is not the way of life anymore.

When the Last Sword is Drawn is a samurai film no doubt, but it’s a samurai film in reverse. The film is set during the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate, a volatile time in the Japanese history, which also served as background for Seven Samurai, perhaps the ultimate samurai film of all time, the very reason why there’s a genre called samurai films, also other renowned films like Twilight Samurai (2002), and the Tom Cruise-vehicle from Hollywood, The Last Samurai (with Ken Watanabe as Katsumoto).

Yet, When... is different from other Samurai films in the sense that the film’s protagonist, Yoshimura Kanichiro, refuses to live by the accepted code of the time, that is, loyalty to the clan, and the ever-willingness to die for honour. For a change, the film gives us a different perspective on Japanese culture’s morbid fascination for death, especially self-killing, the hara-kiri.

When his samurai colleagues talk about death, Kanichiro says point blank: “I don’t want to die.” For this, he is reviled. Before this, he breaks another taboo by leaving his clan and joining a shogun in Kyoto, because his family of wife and three children is poor and in an emotional moment he had declared that he owes no allegiance to anyone other than his family.

The film, directed by Yojiro Takita, gives the central character, Kanichiro, enough grounds to prove and develop his character, and actor Kiichi Nakai uses his body language, his silly, gentle smile, and the way he approaches the other characters, to give us a memorable movie character. Consider the last part the film: A dying Kanichiro’s final soliloquy. On the screen is just Nakai’s dishevelled face, and him speaking. On the hands of a lesser actor, this long scene would have become a drag, but Nikai makes it poetic and tragic; the scene would make you cry.

The film tells the story of Yoshimura Kanichiro from two different points of view, one from the point of view his former student, and a son of his friend (later his son-in-law) from the village in Northern Japan, a place called Morioka, and another from the point of view of a former samurai, Saito Hajime (apparently a historical character, who has his own myths), who were once colleague, shared some unsavoury secrets and later faught the war against the emperor’s army during Meiji restoration.

Through their diverse memories we come to know Yoshimura Kanichiro, a skilled swordsman, who is ready to do anything to earn some money. Slowly, as the story unfolds, we are told why Kanichiro became what he is now, and finally, we come to love and admire Kanichiro, and weep with him during his final redemption.

In patches, Kanichiro may remind you of the Toshiro Mifune character in Seven Samurai, both outsiders and unorthodox, who finally went all out for the cause.

The film had won the best film award in 2004 Japanese academy awards with Kiichi Nakai winning the best actor award. The film had received nine other nominations.

Jeon Woo Chi The Taoist Wizard

What happens when three bumbling Taoist Gods, two feuding wizards from the 14th Century, a dog in human shape and two goblins, again in human shape, are let loose in modern Korea? Mayhem of course, and lots and lots of fun and some cool action. That’s what in short is the 2009 Korean film Jeon Woo Chi The Taoist Wizard. With a running time of more than two hours, the film may be tad long, but never boring, thanks to an inventive, tongue-in-cheek screenplay, well modulated action sequences and broad Korean humour that borders in slapsticks, and yet not quite.

The plot involves a lot of mumbo jumbo and a lot of wtf moments, but hey, why not? A long, long time ago, there’s was a pipe with the help of which the Arch God (don’t ask me who he is) would keep the goblins captive for 3,000 years. There was a mistake and the pipe was stolen by the goblins, and as a result both the gods and goblins came to reside on earth, forgetting their divine existence.

Now, the Taoist Gods, in charge of defeating the goblins and finding the pipe, seek help of renowned wizard Hwadam. Enters in the frey Woochi, a young wizard, enterprising, but quite vain, who, instead of learning the art of wizardry wants to possess the mythical sword and the mirror which will make him the greatest wizard of all. Following a misunderstanding, he defeats a goblin and possesses the pipe.

Meanwhile, Hwadam has been possessed by the goblins and wants the pipe badly. But the pipe is broken by Woochi’s master, and the ensuing fight, the three Taoist gods imprison Woochi and his companion in a picture for 500 years.

Now, in today’s Korea, the three gods encounter the goblins again. Since they cannot find Master Hwadam, they decide to release Woochi and his companion, and mayhem ensues.

Did I mention the side track involving the girl Woochi had a thing for all those years ago?

Like all time-travel films, The Taoist Wizard also plays with the difference. Woochi’s reactions involving a car, and girls in short skirts, and how he gets a beer mug from the sidewalk ad are fantastic. More than the actions (there are some cool action; the nice part is that the special effects are not flashy, and are made to work to carry the plot forward), the fun comes from the understated situations, like one of the gods now working as a priest, and his charms not working because he’s carrying a Bible, or one god complaining to another how his doctor asked him to stop smoking or he would die. It does not have the seriousness of Highlander but the lightheartedness of Time Bandits.

Again, the best part of the movie is how the screenplay make the flawed hero a very likeable character. For this, credit must go to actor Dong-won Kang, who plays Woochi with just the right amount of silliness. His nemesis Hwadam is played by Yun-seok Kim (who was fantastic in The Chaser) with a menacing nonchalant.

After the Wedding

Directed by: Susanne Bier
Produced by: Sisse Graum Olsen
Written by: Susanne Bier; Anders Thomas Jensen
Starring: Mads Mikkelsen; Sidse Babett Knudsen
Music by: Johan Söderqvist
Cinematography: Morten Søborg
Release date: Denmark 24 February 2006
Running time: 120 minutes
Country: Denmark; Sweden
Language: Danish; Swedish; Hindi; English

The 2006 Danish film by Susanne Bier was nominated for the Oscar in foreign languages category, along with Pan’s Labyrinth and The Lives of Others in 2007. The later film, about the lurking evils of Nazi Germany, clinched the statuette; I would vote for the Guilermo Del Toro fantasy any day. In between, After the Wedding is an odd picture indeed. In one word, it’s a Pedro Almodovar melodrama presented as a meditation on shifting relationships. The plot is a recipe for disaster, yet the actors, especially Mads Mikkelsen (who rose to fame with Nicolas Winding Refn’s Pusher trilogy, and was introduced to the international audience as the James Bond nemesis in Casino Royal. Last year he played the laconic, one-eyed killing machine in Refn’s Valhalla Rising, Russian composer Stravinsky in Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky and Draco in the Clash of the Titans remake. He is ruggedly handsome and has an imposing presence.), and Bier’s compositions, including her obsession with the actors’ eyes, make the film a compelling viewing.

What intrigued me most however was the India angle. The film begins and ends in India, the narrow slums of Mumbai before moving to the plush suburbs of Copenhagen. Mikkelsen plays Jacob, who volunteers for an orphanage in Mumbai and is quite attached to an 8-year-old Indian boy, Pramod, whom he has taken care of since childhood.

My question was why Mumbai slums? What purpose does it serve in the grand scheme of the film’s plot? Apparently nothing. Granted, the Mumbai setting moves the plot. Jacob needs money, otherwise the orphanage will close down. He finds a donor in a Danish millionaire, who however wants to meet him before they seal the deal. The point of the plot is to make Jacob confront his past. There would have been other ways of doing it, but why India? Perhaps it was to bring forth a contrast, between riches and poverty, between losing one’s family and finding family among strangers. (At one point, Jorgen, the millionaire, tells Jacob that he will donate enough money to feed 65,000 children for a years in India, which is more than the entire population of Denmark combined.)

Bier’s visuals of Bombay borders on poverty porn, yet looks very authentic. Even the use of Hindi by the Indian actors rings true (as opposed to Jimmy Mistry talking in accented Hindi in 2012.)

But After the Wedding is not about India. It’s about two men, Jacob and Jorgen, their past and present and their love for the same woman, Helene. Almodovar would feel quite at home with the story.

Jacob returns to Copenhagen after almost 20 years looking for the money promised by millionaire Jorgen to run the orphanage in India. It’s weekend, and Jorgen’s daughter is getting married. Jacob is invited to the wedding, which is visits reluctantly. There’s he meets Helene, his old flame, and finds out that she is married to Jorgen, and surprise, surprise, the bride, Anna, is actually Jacob’s daughter. Helene confronts her husband to ask what Jacob was doing in their house. Jorgen says he did not know it was the same Jacob. But, it cannot be just a co-incidence, can it, asks Jacob, as Anna learns about her biological father and comes to accept him. No, it was not an accident, but an well laid out plan on part of the millionaire, because as he says himself, he is good man.

As Jacob and Helene go through the routine of guilt and reconciliation, we are spared of the flashback about what happened between them 20 years ago (there are some hints in dialogues, but no scene). This was a wise decision which saves the film from falling into a traditional melodrama. Everything is played out here and now, and how the characters respond to it. (Another interesting point is the epilogue in Mumbai. Jacob returns to India for one last time. He offers to take Pramod with him to Denmark. But the young boy refuses. He likes it in Mumbai, even in the face of poverty.)

After the Wedding reminds me the 1974 Hindi film Aap Ki Kasam, where a jealous Rajesh Khanna dumps a pregnant Mumtaz imagining that she was having an affair with Sanjeev Kumar. Khanna then roams around as homeless wanderer and ends up attending his daughter’s wedding to finally clear all misunderstandings. The best thing about the film was the soundtrack by R D Burman, with gems like ‘Karwaten Badalte Rahen,’ ‘Paas Nahin Aana’ and ‘Zindagi Ke Safar Mein Guzar Jaate Hain.’

Bier’s latest, In A Better World, which moves between Denmark and Africa, won the best foreign language award at this year’s Golden Globe and has also been nominated for the Oscar in the same category.

3 Questions On Writing A Paper

Some times back a friend of mine asked me the following questions. I tried to give her an answer. It was highly inadequate. So, I wrote the following...

1. What are the ingredients of a good abstract and a good paper?

The abstract will be as good as your paper is. You cannot prepare the abstract unless you have formulated the entire argument of your paper (even if you haven’t written it down.)

To distribute the ingredients of a good paper, we must first understand what a paper is. A paper is not a thesis. It’s not a book. Yet, a paper as an entity is complete it self, it has a beginning, a middle and an end. And, since it’s not a thesis or a book, whatever a paper wants to say, it should be able to say within its limited scope, say 5,000 words, or 10 regular pages. In a regular conference, you are given 15 minutes to read a paper. Ideally, therefore, a paper should be an essay that can be read aloud within less than 15 minutes.

Therefore, the topic for a paper should be something that we can do justice to within this short span. Therefore, narrowing down the topic is a must.

First, decide the subject. Say, Indian Writing in English.

Now, narrow it down as much as possible. Here’s an example:
Indian Writing in English.
Novel.
21st Century novels.
Authors based in India
Woman author
Woman author on minority issues
Woman author on religious issues
(After narrowing down so much, you came to several writers... Let’s say, we choose Esther David. Now, David has several novels, you must choose one among them.)
Easter David: “Book of Esther”
(Now, there are several themes in “Book of Esther”. You cannot tackle all of them at once. You must choose a special strand.)
You choose a topic: “How Personal Histories Shapes Identities: A Study of Book of Esther.”

Now comes the tough part, how to go about it...

Conventional wisdom demands that you say something original. Yet, you are not allowed to say anything out of context. Therefore, the rule of thumb: Find a context. Find a theory, or a hypothesis by someone well regarded. For example, in the current context, Salman Rushdie’s famous essay, ‘Imaginary Homelands’. You can start with what Rushdie has to say about personal histories and relate it to David’s fiction.

Keep the focus narrower, never stray from the topic, even if you find that you have so many interesting things to say about a related topic.

You learn by example: Therefore, please read some papers or attend some seminars.

Now, the abstract. The abstract will contain your original research, what you are trying to prove in the paper.

Consider this: You are going, say, from Point A to Point B because you think you will see dragons on the way. This is your abstract.

Now, in your paper you describe the journey, why you think you will see the dragons on the way, and finally whether you saw those blasted dragons or not. Easy.

2. What are the things to be kept in mind (tricks of the trade) while reading a novel/story/poem/drama with the sole purpose of writing a paper on it?

Every creative output is a representation. Now, representation is a loaded word. What does it represent, how does it represent and what is the meaning of this representation?

It represents something from society at large, some facts, some possibility. How it augurs with the ‘reality’? What this representation brings new to the table.

3. How to write a paper on a film? on a song/oral renditions?

If you follow the earlier protocol, you should be able to find the answers to his question.

Notes:
The Torah is the inspiration of Esther David’s third novel Book of Esther, which also happens to be one of the most beautiful stories narrated in the old testament. Loosely based on family history, the novel is a treasure trove of stories. Mingling reality with a imaginary world, the novel begins in the nineteenth century with Bathsheba, as she waits for her husband to return from his long absence at their home in Danda village on the Konkan coast. The story weaves it’s way from the Konkan to Ahmedabad. Joseph and David inherit Bathsheba’s empathy for all things living, besides possessing a remarkable talent as a doctor in Ahmedabad, but is unable to rein in his exuberant son, in whom the ability to heal is directed towards lions, tigers, panthers and even crocodiles. He goes on to found a zoo and the stories of the pets he raises form a heartbreaking accompaniment to the human drama. Given this background, Esther’s own story acquires an unusual poignancy as she struggles to find her moorings. A search for roots takes her to Israel and France. The turmoils in the city of her birth, coalesce into a desperate search for answer and strength. Peopled by a host of memorable characters, some of them wonderfully eccentric, Book of Esther casts a fresh perspective on the Jewish experience in India as it chronicles the fortunes of a gifted family. Most of all, however, it is a celebration, intensely felt of love and attachment and the joys and sorrows that they bring. (from http://estherdavid.com/bookofesther.html)

Tamara Drewe

Directed by: Stephen Frears
Produced by: Alison Owen; Tracey Seaward; Paul Trijbits
Screenplay by: Moira Buffini; Based on Tamara Drewe by
Posy Simmonds
Starring: Gemma Arterton, Dominic Cooper
Music by: Alexandre Desplat
Cinematography: Ben Davis
Editing by: Mick Audsley
Release date(s): 20 September 2010 (UK)
Running time 111 minutes
Country United Kingdom
Language English

Stephen Frears is one director you cannot put in a box and label him. He has so far directed 21 odd movies and no two films are similar. There have been hits and misses in his career. His films have flopped (Cheri in 2008, for example). He was nominated for best director Oscar (latest, for The Queen). But each of his films are unique. For example, he may have tackled gay themes in two of his film — My Beautiful Laundrette and ‘Prick Up Your Ears’, but both movies are different in their backgrounds and the tone, the way both the films are conceived.

Therefore, when you sit down to watch Frears’ latest Tamara Drewe, you expect the film to be different than whatever he has done so far. Not entirely. Personally, I liked the film. But, I cannot go gung-ho about it, the way I did with Pretty Dirty Things (It’s still my favourite Frears film, along with My Beautiful Laundrette), or High Fidelity, or The Grifters.

In one sense, in Tamara, Frears is in the High Fidelity zone. But the material he handles this time doesn’t have the panache of Nick Hornby’s storytelling. And, unlike the previous film, here the focus shifts from one group of characters to another so frequently that the audience do not find time and scope to invest in the characters. That said, the understated ‘British humour’ and study of human foible in the film are not without their rewards.

Based on the graphic novel by Posy Simmonds, which was first published as newspaper comic strip, the film is based on a fictional village in the Thomas Hardy county of Dorset, where acclaimed crime novelist Nicholas Hardiment and his wife Beth runs a writers retreat. It’s an out of the world hell-hole where nothing happens, as two bored teen-age school girls claim. But it’s all is about to change at the arrival of Tamara Drewe, once an ugly duckling with a huge nose from the village, now, a beautiful Gemma Arterton with a nose job done, who wants to renovate her dead mother’s place to sell it.

Her arrival throws the placid routine of the village off gear, and we are introduced to a host of characters whose life will change in the course of a chain reaction triggered off by the arrival of Tamara, and her new-found boyfriend, drummer of a just broken up band, Ben, whom one of the bored teen school girls worship.

Then there are others, Ben (Luke Evans, who reminds me strongly of James McAvoy), Tamara’s first lover in her teen ugly days, Glen, an American working on a book on Thomas Hardy, who slowly falls for Beth, the crime novelists harassed wife, and the crime novelists, a serial adulterer and once Tamara’s object of affection, and the two school girls.

Season changes, and Tamara leaves for London with her now fiancé, Ben, when the two school girls enter her house and sends an email. What follows are some comedy of errors, some more adultery, and some fun. It’s all there. But the plot moves in a slow pace, and in the end you don’t really care about anyone, not even Tamara.

This despite Gemma Arterton playing Tamara as a intelligent woman playing a bimbo, but not a bimbo at any rate. She is more than the sexy siren avatar expected of her, and she can act, but probably not like Tamsin Greig, who plays Beth as silly and sympathetic at the same time.

Tamara Drewe may not be one of the best Stephen Frears films, but it’s far better than all those formula comedies that open every other week. Among other things, the makes its writers look like writers.

Films directed by Stephen Frears

Gumshoe (1971)
Bloody Kids (1979)
The Hit (1984)
My Beautiful Laundrette (1985)
Prick Up Your Ears (1987)
Mr Jolly Lives Next Door (1987)
Sammy and Rosie Get Laid (1987)
Dangerous Liaisons (1988)
The Grifters (1990)
Hero (1992)
The Snapper (1993)
Mary Reilly (1996)
The Van (1996)
The Hi-Lo Country (1998)
High Fidelity (2000)
Liam (2000)
Dirty Pretty Things (2002)
Mrs Henderson Presents (2005)
The Queen (2006)
Cheri (2009)
Tamara Drewe (2010)

Reign of Assassins

Directed by: Su Chao-Pin; John Woo
Produced by: John Woo; Terence Chang
Written by: Su Chao-Pin
Starring: Michelle Yeoh; Jung Woo-sung; Wang Xueqi; Barbie Hsu; Shawn Yue; Kelly Lin; Guo Xiaodong; Jiang Yiyan
Music by: Peter Kam
Cinematography: Horace Wong
Release date(s): September 28, 2010 (China)
Running time: 117 minutes
Country: China; Hong Kong; Taiwan
Language: Mandarin
Budget: $14 million

When you see John Woo’s name as co-director of the film, you know what to expect — a kick ass thrill ride. And you wouldn’t be disappointed, if you liked Face/Off, and for that matter any Woo film.

I mention Face/Off for a purpose, as a particular plot point in the film borrows heavily from the Cage-Travolta film. But then, the entire film is a patchwork of sorts. It borrows from traditional wuxia films — gravity defying martial arts, Shaolin monks, sprinkles of Buddhist philosophy, unrequited love, and insatiable desire for revenge — everything. But, you have no scope for complaints, especially when the presentation is so marvelous, the cinematography, editing first rate, and direction assured and confident. Okay, I agree, the last half-an-hour of the film is so outrageously shameless in revealing one twist after another, and that too with so much exposition, you wonder what was the screenwriter thinking (There’s so much twists that it would rival all Alfred Hitchcock films combined together). On the second thought, however, the film is saved by its smart screenwriting. The film invests a good amount of time establishing the lead characters and when the can of worms is opened, you cannot help but care for the characters.

The film was written as a star vehicle for Michelle Yeoh, and she holds the film from being cartooney and caricature at the outrageous turn of events. Yeoh is always a pleasure to watch, and if the film reminds you of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, it’s not her fault, really.

Set during the Ming Dynasty, the film begins with the legend of an Indian monk, Bodhi, who came to China, mastered the martial arts and died. Now, the myth is that his remains, which were divided into two parts, holds the secrets of martial arts and who possesses the remains will be the master of death. War has been waged for centuries for the mythical mummified body. Now enters a cut-throat group of assassins in the frey. The group, the Dark Stone, which is led by one Wheel King, learns that a part of the remains are with the prime minister. They attack the minister’s house, killing him and his son, Renfeng. In the ensuing melee, one of the gang members, Drizzle, steals the remains and disappear.

On her way out, she meets a Buddhist monk, Wisdom, who tells her that her martial arts skills are not perfect yet, and she must move away from the path of violence. In the ensuing fight, Wisdom sacrifices himself, even as Dizzle realises that he was the love of her life (“I would turn into a stone bridge and endure 500 years of wind and rain...”) (wait for the actual stone bridge at the end of the film) .... Remorseful, she decides to mend her ways. She visits the ancient China equivalent of a plastic surgeon, pays him two bars of gold and changes her face, and so become Michelle Yeoh.

Now, Zeng Jing moves into the city, hides her true identity and skills, and starts a small garment shop. Soon, she is wooed by a bumbling runner, Ah-Sheng, and fending his advances for a long while, she relents and marries him, and the couple lives happily ever after. Well, not really, as the Dark Stone members have been hunting her all these years and they would never stop until they find Drizzle.

One day, while they visit a local bank, they are attacked by a gang of robbers. To save her husband, Zeng Jing invokes her skills as the ruthless assassin and overpowers the bad guys. When she realises that her secret is out, she wants to confess to Ah-Sheng, but he says it does not matter, she is his wife no matter want.

As the news of the bank attack spreads, the Dark Stone members come to know about Drizzle’s whereabout and confront her, despite the fact that she has a different face now. Putting her husband to sleep so that he does not have to go though the ordeal, Drizzle strikes a deal with the Wheel King, she will return the part of the remains of the Bodhi and help the Dark Stone find the other half in exchange of the lives of her and her husband.

Now, as we enter in the third act, all hell breaks lose. Wake up and pay attention, things are not what they seem. I remember, after seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, I mentioned somewhere, that the film contains more plots than there are fish in the sea. Now, Reign of Assassins make the other film look like a one plot love story. I don’t want to spoil things for you, but let me give some hints — the minister’s son, Renfeng, wasn’t dead, there was another “face-change” surgery, someone is an eunuch. And the question remains, will Zeng Jing and Ah-Sheng live happily ever after?

Oh, did I forget to mention the martial art set-pieces? The action sequences are not really worthy of Zhang Yimou (Hero, House of the Flying Daggers), but then, the damands of the plot is also different here. Yet, there are several finely executed sequences, involving the ever-graceful Yeoh, expecially the climatic fight between Drizzle and the Wheel King.

As the film ends, I wonder why can’t the Hindi film industry make a film like this — it has all the masala so intrinsic to a Bollywood film, and so masterfully executed, I wish I had a chance to see the film on the big screen.

Detective Dee...

Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame

Directed by: Tsui Hark
Produced by: Tsui Hark; Nansun Shi; Peggy Lee
Screenplay by Chen Kuofu; story by Lin Qianyu (novel)
Starring: Andy Lau; Carina Lau; Li Bingbing; Tony Leung Ka-fai; Deng Chao
Release date(s): 29 September 2010
Running time: 122 mins
Country: China; Hong Kong
Language: Mandarin
Budget: US$20 million

The title of the film surely sounds like those children’s books with illustrations, or the story of a Sherlock Holmes wannabe. But the 2010 Chinese film starring Andy Lau, is more than that. In the face of it, it’s a traditional wuxia film with a twist; but if you are prepared to sit through it (it’s a long movie!), this handsomely mounted picture (the film begins inside a giant statue of Buddha, which plays a very important role in the climax, lavishly photographed) has a lot more to offer — action set-pieces, a whodunit plot, a little magic (a talking deer, and transfiguration), a love story, and a sly feminist propaganda, with a bit of a history lesson (after all, the plot features China’s first female emperor, Wu Zetian, in 690 AD.)

After her husband, the Emperor, was dead, the Empress ruled the kingdom as regent for seven years. During this time, she faced severe opposition from the nobles, for her being a woman, among other things. As a political masterstroke, she installed a mysterious chamberlain, a quasi monk-witch doctor figurehead, as her advisor, and at the chamberlain’s behest, ruthlessly silenced all her oppositions. Some were killed, some were maimed and others were jailed. One among them was our hero, Dee, once the king’s favourite, now a traitor.

Now, the Empress wants to ascend the throne. For the D-Day, she decrees building of a giant Buddha statue. As work on completing the statue progresses on war-footing, the chief engineering in the task catches fire for no apparent reasons. That’s the phantom flame for you. The same thing happens to the person investigating the death. What’s going on? Someone doesn’t want the Empress to ascend the throne. There are several suspects. The mysterious chamberlain advises the Empress to release detective Dee from the prison and entrust him the task of solving the mystery. So, the Empress sends her most trusted employee to find Dee.

Here begins the story, with twists at every turn, with Andy Lau’s moustachioed detective jumping from one cliff-hanger to another — the shower of arrows, a visit to a underworld flee market (reminds you of the troll market of Hellboy II, but not as impressive), a fight with deers, a bite of the dreaded fire insect which will turn you into the phantom flame, and finally, we return to the hollow interiors of the of the Buddha statue, and discover the real perpetrators of the crimes.

Detective Dee isn’t ‘Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon,’ and the good part is, it does even try to be one. The film knows the importance of the wuxia set-pieces and handles them seriously and magnificently (especially the underground sequences, with the wooden logs jutting out to a flight ); there are several such long sequences, which should be your money’s worth. Yet, what the film attempts is to tell a story, in a classic whodunit fashion, with detective Dee becoming Chinese equivalent of Sherlock Holmes. And in Andy Lau, the film finds a strong anchor to carry the film forward through the myriad maze of misadventures. (You may remember Lau from the very popular ‘Infernal Affairs;’ he was the other guy, the mole in the police force; a role played by Mat Damon in ‘The Departed’.) Lau is a superstar in Hong Kong film industry, the film exploits his filmstar aura.

Tony Leung (the elder one from ‘The Lover,’ not the younger one from ‘Internal Affairs’) plays the antagonist with an understated charm and a maimed hand (like Captain Hook), so much so that you don’t even realise that his role is an important one, till... well, thereby hangs the tale, the mystery.

As the film ends, you expect a sequel. I mean, why not?

Trivia: The China Daily newspaper placed the film on their list of the best ten Chinese films of 2010.

North East Book Fair

Random rambling on Assamese Literature after attending the 12th North East Book Fair, December 2010

Part II

And there are the poets. I know the names, but I haven’t read them, at least seriously. There’s Pranab Kumar Barman, from Nalbari, I’m told, Barman, who is my cousin’s favourite, is a very good poet. There’s Saurabh Saikia. There are so many names, I have forgotten. Sometimes I get to read some of them as a jpg image downloaded from Facebook (Which I think is a nice way to spread the word.). There are two Kamal Kumars. One Medhi and one Tanti. Kamal Kumar Tanti is a friend. Being a science researcher, he is very politically conscious, especially about minority issues. He had given me a pdf copy of his award winning collection of poems, Marangburu Amar Pita (Marangburu Our Father). He is a good poet (I must confess, I haven’t read the entire collection; I must do it soon.). I saw the other Kamal, Medi, at the book fair. He runs a publication house of his own.

Enough of the poets. Now, the poems.

I started writing poetry in the Nilim Kumar-influenced hyper-romantic mode in mid-1990s. By then the ‘Scented Butterfly’ of Hiren Bhattacharya was too mild; we wanted something more heady, we wanted our lovers to be exotica reincarnated, and so on.

Then things changed. I still remember the day when army vans obstructed our way to the school. I was in class nine. President’s Rule was imposed in Assam that day. Now, looking back, I wonder about the new generation of children who probably would not be able to imagine the streets of Assam without the armymen standing at the chowks. I have seen such streets and I long for those days. Anyway, those were the days of my adolescence, I was writing about love, of course imaginary, while around me, the state was bleeding. I remember discussing about the exploits of ULFA at the diner table, later, the talks will shift to Army atrocities. I still remember a picture in the front page of a Assamese daily — five half-naked youngsters being cremated in a pile of discarded tyres. This was the reality of Assam.

But, what I wrote was my imagination, something like “Moi kandile akashkhon topani jai...” (When I weep, the sky goes to sleep.). I was ashamed of myself since I was powerless enough to express my true feelings. I stopped writing for a long time.

Then I left home. After a few years, I started to write again. This time in English, since I was still powerless to write in my mother tongue, especially poetry. I would write about me. But who I was that people would be interested in my feelings when my state goes through such turmoil? I would find solace in the poetry of Sameer Tanti, Gyan Pujari and a few others.

This time, at the book fair, what surprised me was how the socio-political reality of the land hasn’t affected the new generation of the poets. The new generation of the poets, most of them in their 20s or early 30s, are still hyper romantic, Nilim Kumar is still their high priest... (What do I say, I have nothing to say. I miss the days I would write poems. I miss my friend Bipul Kalita who used to write such beautiful poems, now a bank employee; I miss Bhaskar Goswami, who wrote overwhelming poetry but never bothered to publish them.)

At the book fair, I saw Nilim Kumar, bearded, and in a tribal jacket posing for photographs, with a young fan, as her friend tries to capture the moment in her mobile phone. He was there to inaugurate a poetry magazine, Kabitar Pathar (The Field of Poetry), which he had edited.

And lo, and behold, here’s my friend Arup Jyoti Mahanta. I haven’t met him in ages. He got married, changed jobs, and I have not idea. We had some misunderstandings and I accept, it was my fault. We had stopped talking. Once he was my only literary connection. I would accompany him to weekly meets of the Barpeta branch of the Assam Sahitya Sabha where he was a member. Was I a member too? I don’t remember. But I remember reading a short story at one of the meets. I don’t remember what it was about.

I bumped on him at the book fair, and we greeted each other like nothing had ever happened. My first reaction was: Where is your book? I was sure he had published a book so far. Yes, he has. But that was last year. A collection of short stories called ‘Mauchak’ (Beehive). I asked where can I get a copy. He was not sure if they will still stock a book published last year. So many new books come out every year during this time!

On my second trip to the fair, I had the good fortune to attend a literary meet, organised for the purpose of showing live at a TV channel. There, sitting just three chairs away from me, is Laxminandan Bora. Can I walk up and talk to him? What would I say? I was moved by two of his early novels, ‘Ganga Chilanir Pakhi’ (The Feather of the Seagull) and ‘Patal Bhiravi.’ I haven’t read his latest, ‘Kayakalpa’ which won the Saraswati awards. My friend advises me not to even try to read it. I brought his tale on the life of Sankardeva, ‘Jakeri Nahike Upam’ but never got around to read it. But what would I tell him? I have nothing to tell.

The TV anchor asked various questions. And received various answers. I liked two reaction.

An editor of an Assamese daily said, The Assamese literature as we know it is alive and kicking among the people who have still their roots in villages. (This I agree, especially when poetry is concerned.). The real culprit for Assam literature are the city/town-based middle class, who thinks not able to read Assamese is a cultural achievement.

An author pointed out: There are so many writers, but so few critics, and so few spaces for criticism. Critics are equality important for a thriving literary tradition, something that’s missing in Assamese literature (Again, I agree.)

This brings me to Arindam Barkataki. He may not remember me, but I had met him while he was in Pune during his MA, always the bookworm. In the recent years, he had been doing a lot of stuff in Assamese literary criticism, and it’s really admirable. And when Dhrubajyoti Bora mentions you in his acknowledgement in the book, ‘Katha Ratnakar’, you know you have arrived. Keep up the good work, Arindam.

End of Part II