Pichli Redlight Se Right

I'd been frantically racking my brains for nearly 2 hours, trying to recall some good song that is not on my playlist (which has become boring after being played on loop everyday while travelling to and from college). That is when I faintly recalled a soothing track I'd heard in a short film I'd watched a while back. So I went back and trawled Youtube for the video, just to listen to the song and ended up watching the (short!) film again. Just like the first time, the film left me spellbound.



The film's title - Pichli Redlight Se Right itself was very intriguing and the film lives up to it, by starting on an equally intriguing note. The dialogues are engaging, the story simple yet brilliant at so many levels, and the performances subtle and fit in just right.  There is fine detailing throughout the film that makes it a lot more believable. The locations are relatable and the exchanges between the protagonists so real.

I love this little moment where the protagonists are sitting on the rooftop and the girl is narrating her story and the boy is listening in rapture, when the girl turns to look at him he quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip of the tea only to find it too hot! The catch here is that as I typed this out, I realized that it came across as a lot more dramatic. In the film, the emotions have an understated elegance. This is where the film stands out - in its perfect yet blink-and-you-miss-it detailing.

I loved the character of a juvenile pimp! The child actor portrays the character perfectly, surprising you with his crisp dialogue delivery, making you grin throughout his screen time and well, displaying  mastery over the tricks of his trade! 

And of course, I love the music. It is just like the movie - minimalistic and impactful. It leaves you with a sense of light thoughtfulness that lingers on.

Watch it and you'll know just what I'm talking about! :)




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The Umm Monologues


The Vagina Monologues, to be precise.

After a long time of reading about the popular play by Eve Ensler and its various adaptations, I finally decided to watch the movie, by the same name. It was out of plain curiosity. I had recently read somewhere that the play's Indian adaptation by Mahabano Mody Kotwal recently completed 10 years and it had always been controversial, I just wanted to see what the fuss is all about.

What followed, were 77 minutes of candid, witty, funny, deep, intriguing  and sometimes cringe-worthy episodes. Eve narrated with a rare honesty, episodes centered around themes such as love, sex, orgasm, masturbation, birth and sexual violence. The film also had excerpts from interviews conducted by Eve, while researching for the play. 





What is significant is that this came at a time when so much is being said about women's rights, freedoms, role and perception in the society. There is so much of discussion and debate about something I, personally have believed is so obviously fundamental - equal rights, opportunities and freedom for women. Why do we even need to question that? It puzzled me back in middle school when we were taught that a feminist is a person who believes in equal rights for women. Umm, don't we all? What seems apparent, is that we don't. Sometimes subconsciously, blindly following the cultural misinterpretations and at other times, because of our deep rooted set of values that itself is a culmination of a culture that has not only denied an equal status but has devoided half of its population the right to discuss matters that concern them, and are an intricate part of their very existence. 

It is this 'glass ceiling' that the movie breaks. It is also what it makes the film a treat to watch. Never before have I seen someone discuss issues as intimate as one's first menstrual period and one's embarrassment at the sight of the vagina in a way that is poignant and humorous at the same time! The film is largely anecdotal. Some of them can be easily related to, we've all been there and done that! (And for the first time, that little happy squeal which comes from the realization of not being the lone weirdo can be more than just a whisper - because here we have someone who's celebrating it, with panache!).
The other anecdotes - like the one that described experiences of women in Bosnian 'rape camps' left me feeling aghast. 

Eve Ensler needs to be thoroughly applauded. Not only for her awe-inspiring performance in the film, but for the sheer brilliance with which she has managed to compile such profound experiences and brought them to life!

Incidentally, I came across this piece by The Mad Momma. It reminded me of what Eve said in the beginning of the film - 

"I bet you're worried. I was worried. That's why I began this piece. I was worried about vaginas, I was worried what we think of them, and I was even more worried that we don't think of them."

Though I do not agree with all that MM has to say (the disposal-in-newspapers issue can well be attributed to a simple, hygienic approach adopted keeping in mind the shoddy waste disposal system that we have functioning in our cities, and the hush-hush surrounding washing dirty linen is justified to quite an extent by a simple word - 'privacy'. Talking freely about menstruation and the likes is one thing, but that still shouldn't invade the personal space one is entitled to!), I get the point MM is trying to make. I've seen practices unreasonable to the extent of being downright crazy, being employed with such unflinching, unquestioning ease. We still deny women the right to enter temples, or touch anything considered 'holy' for that matter, while they're on their period. From making them eat in specific utensils to making them sleep in separate beds and washing their (even if spotless!) sheets to debarring them from entering the kitchen, even. I get where all this is stemming from. I get that we've been a patriarchal society for centuries and that's probably how such rudimentary practices came into being. But now, out of sheer exasperation, I feel compelled to exclaim - we're in the 21st century, dammit. How long are we going to take to get our basics right?

Also from the MM's post I came across these two posts by Anupama Mohan and Veena Venugopal. 

Anupama Mohan talks of the concept of 'phallogocentrism' -

"It is the idea that our societies are centred by the phallus and language (logos).."

Unfamiliar with the etymological manifestations and their eventual cultural implications, I had a conversation on the lines of the same concept with my friend A a while back.
I'd asked A what one is really implying, while calling oneself  'in favour of equal rights for women but not a feminist'.
A had (very proudly) answered by drawing an analogy. He said that it's akin to someone who frequently uses words like ch*tiya or b*hnchod but still respects women, as is the case with a lot of my friends.
It could also be someone who dances to the tunes of a rap about raping a woman and sings along, but 'in principle' respects women.

I found this explanation fundamentally flawed. I couldn't (and probably still can't) articulate it well enough, but something here is not right. You cannot use such sexist profanities with ease if you really do understand the gravity of the issue at hand. Maybe it doesn't reflect upon much of your attitude towards women in particular, as it does upon your tendency to unthinkingly absorb what is prevalent culturally and inculcate a habit out of it. That trend, in itself, is quite disturbing. And if you're the artist(s) in question, it should 'in principle', prick you conscience. You might not have penned the lyrics, but you did know what you were singing and the mass appeal and influence that you generate. Banning artists can never be a solution but some self-regulation on the part of the artists cannot hurt anyone. What's also important to note here is that it not something subjective, but an established evil - rape.

It also brings me to the question - why do women 'in favor of equal rights for women' suddenly want to distance themselves from the epithet 'feminist'? What is wrong with being one? As a very eloquent friend (another A! A female, this time!) described, feminist by definition refers to someone who believes in equality, not psychopaths looking to establish matriarchy! Why then, is it suddenly out of trend to identify oneself with the cause one's counterparts have been fighting for, for ages? Why are we suddenly feeling that feminism doesn't fit into modern times? Why does it have to be this feminism or that feminism? Why can't feminism as a movement, derive its strength from it's diversity? Like in Eve Ensler's play, we might be different women facing apparently different issues, but the fundamental goal remains the same. I know it's much easier said than done, I know that what I'm saying is probably a gross simplification of an immensely complicated social scenario, but it's still better than passive cynicism, in my humble opinion!

Veena Venugopal, In her article, takes the topic of female desire head-on! (Much like Eve, if I may add!)
As she puts it,

"If I am asking for it, dude, you will know it. ....
 We probably don’t talk about what we desire enough. But we certainly think about it. So this will probably come as a surprise to you. When you proposition us, on the road, in the bus, or at a movie theatre, and we say no, we are not saying that we don’t feel any desire. We are simply saying that it’s not you who we desire."

It's as simple as that! And then they go on ranting about women being complicated! *rolls eyes!*
It's sad how this approach, despite being so simple, has not been comprehended by most fractions of our society. As a result, not only do we deny the existence of such an entity as female desire but end up ridiculing it!
I while ago I was discussing the DPS RK Puram MMS Scandal with a friend of mine. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl, not because the MMS went public or her 'modesty was outraged' or anything, but simply because I felt that she was a victim of the society's hypocrisy. Not her folly. A 17-18 year old making out with her boyfriend. What's wrong/new with that? The whole act was supposed to be a private affair and not leak out in the first place.  Instead of rebuking the boyfriend for leaking out the footage, we ended up ridiculing the girl. What a shame! I heard a rumor that she's at Harvard University now! And the self-confessed Amreeka-obsessed freak that I am, if by any freak chance the girl happens to be reading this, all I want to say is - YOU GO, GIRL! KUDOS!
And now that I've realized that I've ended up typing a tediously long post which I don't really want to edit because I strongly feel what I've written, I think it's befitting to end the post by quoting Eve Ensler's closing lines from The Vagina Monologues -

"So, here we go, here we go. Okay, we're done."

Cheers!




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Rollin' in the Deep

You know what they say about turning sorrow into treasured gold? (Yea, fine. 'They' = Adele.) I'm going to try doing just that. Because cranky just does not make the cut anymore. Also, there's something endearing about this blog that makes me want to be as cool as her, and take bullcrap with a sense of smugness.

So basically, the core issue here is an old pal - jealousy. Of all kinds imaginable. I've always gracefully accepted my tremendously jealous side that is unleashed with full poise at the drop of a hat. The hat in question being mine, of course. Besides, my clumsiness (in dealing with emotional bullshit and otherwise, in a general sense)  ensures that the hat unfailingly keeps falling.

It's not something new to me. So whenever something jealousy-inciting happens, it's not like The Old Pal creeps up from behind while I'm not looking, catching me unaware. It's more like me swiveling around in a really cool armchair and proclaiming in the face of The Old Pal, "I've been expecting you." In Marlon Brando's voice. Smirks and all.
This is followed by all those attempts at becoming zen. You know, the kinds where you, with a halo around your head, feel that you can outsmart all those feelings of ill-will, rise above the shallow worldly trivialities that the lesser mortals indulge in and just for once, have the last laugh? It is almost accomplished, when the voice in my head echoes, in Samantha Jones' voice this time, "Ah. Fuck it." (I've begun to admire Samantha Jones, by the way. Especially the way she says 'Fuck it.'). So, this is when all hell breaks loose. *Tada!*
That all encompassing feeling that clouds commonest sense creeps on you. Remember that scene from The Mummy Returns where Imhotep is falling into this chasm full of scorpions? That.

After much contemplation, I've reached that conclusion that no, it's not because I have a huge insecurity complex or anything. It's just a general feeling of camaraderie that I feel with The Old Pal now. We've been together for so long, this was bound to happen. Whenever either of us is feeling left out or bored or just trying to escape preparing for an exam the next day (like right now), we just huddle up and venture in to that familiar territory where we're certain of finding fodder for our grey cells, that'll obscure everything else, especially those little things these suited people call 'bottomlines' in their corporate mumbo jumbo.
We basically relish the daily rush that comes from anticipating when the next episode on envy will spring up, what will trigger it, whether that'll be from bitch X's new, hot wardrobe or bitch Y flirting with favorite boy or   bitch Z going on to make the world her oyster while I crib on a blog. (Oh, here the word 'bitch' has been used with gender neutrality.)

Did I just hear someone calling me sadistic? Well, maybe. Not that I'm particularly proud of it, though.

What was that Meredith Grey quote, again?
“Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it, I don't know; maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.

That.


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Boomdeyada!

Remember this :D




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No Country for Women

Couldn't agree more, and couldn't be more disgusted.
WATCH IT!



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What's Got Me Trippin'

And while my grey cells go haywire preparing for The Big Blow, what has me feeling all tipsy is -


And I'm unable to decide whether I like that better, or this -






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Chal Bulleya

Currently, I'm more than intrigued by this-

"Chal bullleya, chal uthyae chalye jithaey sare andhe
Na koi saadi zaat pehchane, na koi sannu manne"






Brilliant music with beautiful lyrics. :)



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