Films: Reflecting the Mirror

A lazy Sunday afternoon, watching Mithun Chakrobarty dance to the tune of Bhappi Lahri in the cult-movie Disco Dancer, is perfect food for fodder. The old rich-pouncing-on-the-poor ploy always seems to work in our Indian film industry. And it was an after-movie discussion sorts responsible for this after-thought - Indian films should definitely be considered as a reflection of the changing Indian economy. And I don't mean only in terms of the business Hindi films generates and the amount spent but am referring to the depiction of the Hindi film family or characters – their affluence and of course their lifestyle.

The larger-then-life aura of films is unmistakable. Indians could very well identify themselves as epic-tellers with no story being short of all the requisite masala. After all, Indian culture is rich with the epics of Ramayana and Mahabharata. With unlimited potential, Bollywood is showcasing India in all its glory and its grit. Infact, India is seen through all its years with the characters represent the common man climbing the ladder step by step. Looking at films through the years, it is much easier to understand our growth and visually more appealing. The policies and various causes of the government are truly reflected by the diaspora of subjects undertaken to be filmed, be it the cause female infanticide or the rights of homosexuals or the evolving definition of love.

India in one word is truly diverse and it is more evident through our films. It all may be a number game but it is also about history, culture and creativity. Today the stories are different and they are also told in a different manner. It is no longer lost-and – found formula but the stories too have changed. On one side we have Jodha Akbar taking us back to the quientessential grandeur of the forts and palaces and on the other hand we have the animated Roadside Romeo depiciting a simple love story. And with new heights in technology, we see the future being written on the silver screen with the antics and daredevilry of Krish and the futuristic 2050: A Love Story. No longer does the scripts carry a face of poor India but is painted on the canvass of the richer than rich businessmen. Infact, even the classic Devdas got a facelift to the suit the urban palate.

Glamour goes hand-in-hand with the hardcore businessman within each actor and the soaring packages are a testimony of the industry's rising. Not only on-screen but also off-screen the actors and behind-the-scene technicians live the glory life with hard-earned moolah. Their lifestyle in real life and the changing fashion scenario is evident of the evolving economy of India. The change is moreso demonstrated with the way films are marketed mixing the conventional and technological advantage. The affection the artists' receive can be matched to that given to our Prime Minister who is a charsimatic figure in his own rights.

Experts, or in this case, critics always cite that Bollywood is imitating real life. But can we say that it is an art-imitating-life-imitating-art cult. Would there be a village somewhere sometime in the near furture with no women as infanticide is on the rise? Would we understand the 'Kala Bandar' within each of us to realise that it is our own fears that is dividing us and not any outside force? Would there be a reporter courageous to question a minister and take his seat for a day transforming the entire definition of governance? Would dreams come true of seeing ourselves from being the underdog to stand on the pinnacle of success in sports other than cricket? Questions which can only be answered by the real people living everyday life, the reel stories appearing every Friday, keeping a watch on the changing poster space at the nearby cinema halls.

Chug Along

A friend of mine recently remarked, 'Do you write a blog? I think I saw your pseudo name, Eternal Sunhine.' With a pregnant pause, I replied, "Yes & No. Yes, I write and No, I havn't spared any words for the blog in a long time." He was surprised since he thought my words had depth. Gracias. Then another friend remarked 'I should write' after reading something I came up with in 5 minutes, those words just jumped at me out of nowhere. Just enough to prompt me to finally stop pulling my hair and start putting my mind to writing for my train of thoughts. Been a while that I moved this train, added a few more coaches, chugging along as per my moods, whims, fancies and a lot more...the hope still lives. So a little something by Rudyard Kipling, which I have liked ever since I laid my eyes on it, dedicated to all those who have always shown faith. And to myself.

IF

- By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: Hold on;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!