Welcome to my blog, here I try to do my bit of soul searching, talking, chatting, cribbing, lamenting, anguishing, celebrating, bitching and basically just a whole lot of writing. I enjoy this this process and find it very therapeutical and fun. Hope you enjoy the Blog as much as I do writing. And I'd love to read your comments on any posts, just write, thts the fuel.. so feel free to talk. Thanks, much love-Kanchi
Seated amidst the snowcapped Himalayas. I wondered what needed to be done now. I was here, left a lifetime of memories behind, family, friends, people I loved and cities I dwelt in, all things of the past. Nothing more to hold on to, no one I can call my own, none to love and most importantly alone, in the wildness of the mountains.
Taking away everything I ever had, who am I? I thought. No one, what was I doing, no idea, was I on the right path? was there a path, a life worth living, was it something good, something Bad? Nothing made sense anymore, large were the peaks of snow & strange were my thoughts about everything, lost in confusion and chaos, doubt and utter frustration I waited, Waited for something to happen, something to take over me, possess me, help me, move me, but nothing came along, I just sat there, neither in peace nor silence, just waiting. But no help came. No one there who cares, none to whom my existence mattered. Just the chilling wind of the himalayas and the utter loneliness in my heart.
Tears would be good, I imagined, but my eyes having lost the sweetness of emotions, dried up in mundane intellect let me down. Heart heavy, unable to carry on holding together broken pieces of life together I prayed for an end, an end to this reality, to all the dreams, to all the aspirations, an end to everything I know as me. An End. Clouds hovered above looking down with pity at a man who had lost his soul.
How does a man live with no goal, No sense of belongingness, nothing to strive for, nothing to believe in. Nothing to live for, no reason to be sad, not wanting anything from the world.
How does a man live with himself, when he knows not who he is, who is he who calls himself a man, who is he who thinks he lives. Who is he who is awake, who is he who sleeps, who is he who wakes up.
How does a man live with no desire for life, no fear of death. By himself, to himself he lives. Or does he?
I got a note tagged asking me to write 5 random things. I think its a fun thing to do, so just here it, random crap from my life. I think I will get myself to do this often.
1. I love pink.
2. I have a bad appetite.
3. Right now I talk to way too many girls.
4. I’m getting into photography big time.
5. I almost told the love of my love that I love her last night but kept myself from doing it.
6. My best friend told me she had major feelings for me. It weirdly feels good.
7. Most of my money is only spent on food & into my films.
8. I loved Chandni chowk to china.
9. My favourite cities are Los Angeles, New York & Bangalore.
10. I love myself-obsessively & think Im a Gods gift to mankind.
11. I dont smoke or drink.
12. I want to own an island and turn it into a euthanasia resort.
13. I will build temples in my lifetime.
14. If not a film maker, Id be a monk and wander the himalayas.
15. Ive been in love many times but never got out.
16. I can finish any book within 3 days (eg:shantaram)
17. I hate running. Im terrified of running.
18. I lived in the same condo where Tim Burton used to live.
19. In my dreams I often dream of the same house, and familiar people who’ve never met in real life. I think its a past life or maybe evn the future.
20. I cry easily.
21. I dont ever want to marry.
22. This year I want to go back to LA, NY & also travel to Europe & the Himalayas.
23.You will never see a movie titled jehad or jihad, because I own the rights to that title and Im never making a film with that theme.
24. I was named kanchi after a picture of kanchi shankaracharya, to whom my parents prayed to when I was declared clinically dead as a child after drinking ear drops.Miraculously I survived and woke up next morning hale & hearty, thankfully they didnt know his full name “jagadguru shankaracharya chandrashekara saraswathi swamigal”
25. I only make movies because I dont know what else to do.
I was definitely moved to write a review for this movie. This is probably the first time im writing one…atleast on this blog. ive taken apart several films in my lifetime, massacred a few for sure.
I would definitely like to go for kill on this one. kill the director I mean. coz if guys like these continue to make films in India, id probably have to make a living elsewhere in rwanda or switzerland, cos ths guy has set the standards high. real high.
so lets get it started. what I loved about the film is that he setup the hook in the first five minutes and that’s it, you’re hooked forever. Naseeruddin shah’s character is seen with a bag of explosives on a railway platform. that’s it. that was it. to me that scene carried the film through. spoilers, lots of them ahead, so look away if you want to watch it and havent yet watched it. come back when you have, if you feel like.
so shah’s character calls the cops and tells them he’s planted bombs across the city and they have to do as told to make sure no one dies. simple premise. rock solid treatment and quite realistic. this film is probably the most socially relevant films to come out from India in the recent past. you can forget about rang de with its absurd climax. it’s set in post 7/11 Mumbai.
The film is cut beautifully like a diamond. it moves so fast and smooth. The background scores are never over the top like some RGV’s films offlate. it hits the right chords and stays background just heightening the drama and the suspense.
The cinematography does it’s job and job well done. coz you never notice it. that;s the best compliment for a film like this. now to my second favourite part. The performances. Nasser takes the cake, the cream and the whole fucking bakery. he’s hit it and hit it big time. The role that he’s essayed to play is powerful and at the same time simple. he’s neither underplayed the character nor overplayed, he’s just played it matter of factly and done what was needed to be done. in this business, especially in Bolly, its so hard for an actor to stay still, to do just do, to just essay a character without throwing idiosyncracies and baritone cranky monologues (u knw who im talkin about), shouting and screaming is sadly mistaken for a good performance, nasser proves otherwise. Anupam kher is equally excellent in his character, the supporting cast is done a decent job. no complaints in that department.
now to my favourite part the screenplay and the ass kickin direction, the directors’ kicked some serious butt. he’s focussed, no unnecessary hoopla, no dumbass wise cracks, he’s never tried hard to impress with his style or presentation. the script moves and you actualy hate the intermission coz u dnt want to break the tension. that’s definitely a first for a hindi film. The film im guessing wasnt too big a budget but still theyve managed to give up a large canvas to work with, it seems like a big film even though its not. so kudos to the film on all departments.
I wouldnt like to comment on the philosophy or the idealogy or the social message the film is trying to convey. But purely on a filmy scale it’s easily one of the best thrillers if nt the best, indian film industry has ever produced. it was a pleasant surprise actually more of a shock to the system coz you donot expect a film titled “a wednesday” to actually be so good.
all in all I would love to give 5 on 5, but will settle for 4, coz being perfect sucks. only one complaint though, there were no item numbers in the film. just kiddin. go book your tickets now and get your ass to your nearest screen and dont u dare pirate a classic, i will personally chase you down and make you regret you were ever born. now go away.shoo.
What is needed is a passion to create, to do something, to create something. Ive been in bangalore for the last god knows how long..busting my nuts trying to find talent, and all i find is..wannabe actors whoring around with no idea what it takes to be an actor, what is needed of them, sending in pictures taken with their mobile phones, posing barechested or in their vests wearing sun glasses. It’s appalling and quite depressing to consider that I am trying to make a film in place like this.
Where leave alone finding a decent actor, i can barely get myself an assistant director. Gone are the days when people wanted to learn, to create, now everyone wants to be the boss. They either want to direct films themselves, lousy short films which go nowhere or work with sanjay leela bansali, I encourage them to do the latter, so they can go and find out how hard it is to even get on the set.
The main problem is a lack of culture, a lack of work ethic, a lack of respect for film making, instead what has taken over is acute carelessness and thinking it’s the easiest way to glory and lots of money, arrogance with no sense of dedication or disciple.
what i am left with ia a joke, a terrible make shift actor ruining my film. But ive not yet lost hope, I would rather not make any films anymore than watch them terribly acted out. I will rather wait for the talent, the disciple, the dedication embodied in a person. I’ll wait for that day. Because I believe…
Pages of my life reveals itself like the undercurrent of my river that I so adored. Alone, in the nakedness of my innocence. I sat on her banks. I called her my mother. She was the only mother I ever knew, my only companion, my only friend. Even before I could utter words I Sat before her in silence. Seeking solace, Finding comfort in her arms.
This is the story of my mother, the story of a river that ran across my village, the story so far untold. A story of the secrets so far hidden & above all a story of love. Her love for me that fills me even to this day with immense gratitude.
In silence, all of seven years, I would watch her for hours together, for days together, her magnificent flow, her temptous glow. She reflected all that there was the rising sun at the onset of the day, the setting sun in the piety of the evening. The moon is all her moods, she reflected the entire sky in her, the passersby, those who dirtied her and those who worshipped her & those like me who just watched her. She reflected us all.
Yet she moved, as if untouched, unaffected by all there was. Every single day, every single hour, every moment she moved relentlessly, incessantly she moved, she was a flow, she came, she went. My dearest friend, my mother, my love. Yet now She was and now she wasn’t.
| Tags: ashram, baba, Himalayas, journal, kanchi, mutt, spiritual leader, story, swami, swaroop kanchi | No Comments »
