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Trina Talukdar

A Lesser Known Story

by Trina Talukdar on May 14, 2009

Three things:
1. Movie Distributors  VS  Multiplex Owners  =  No new movies
2. 51 degrees centigrade  =  I am condemned indoors
3.      1 + 2 = I am suicidally bored

These three things explain why I picked up the DVD of “Maharathi,” a movie that I had never heard of, and one anyone I asked about hadn’t heard of either, from the movie rental store. I had reached a state of consciousness where, hell, I was ready to watch “Jaani Dushman” even…all over again.

So I gave the rack of the DVD player a slight push and settled down into bed to watch “Maharathi,” pulled the covers around me, all ready to get bored into sleep. The movie starts at night. I don’t like movies that start in the dark because firstly, I can’t see what’s going on, and while watching a movie I like to know what’s going on, and secondly because movies that start in the dark tend to be about robbery and intrigue and the secret services, and at the moment I just didn’t feel like taxing my mind to understand a complicated plot. But anyway, I was too lazy to get up and switch it off, so I continued watching.

It’s Paresh Rawal robbing an ATM at night, when he spots Nassiruddin Shah’s car run into an accident, and ends up saving Shah’s life. That was hopeful! I mean two of the best actors this country has ever seen wouldn’t have agreed to do a bad movie. Then along comes Neha Dhupia, as Shah’s wife, and all hope was crushed. And she wasn’t even skimpily dressed in the movie!

So Nassiruddin Shah ends up employing his savior, Rawal, as his driver, much to his wife’s distaste, and starts getting friendly with him, leading to bitter fights with Dhupia, which turn out to be quite a treat to a cusser’s ears. (Ever wondered why the censor board considers it ok to say “bitch” in a Hindi movie, but not “chutia”, although “bitch” is more insulting. I mean, she’s his wife, so obviously they’ve had sex, so obviously she’s a “fucker” and therefore “chutia” is a description of her rather than a gali…but still, they censor that word and put in “bitch” instead. Ah well… the more ridiculous the better. I have always believed that a really bad movie is just as good as a really good movie. I mean if you can manage to make a really bad movie, it’s usually so ridiculous that it’s funny and entertaining and you can have a field day bitching about it. Whereas a moderately bad movie just bores you. Which is why “Jaani Dushman” is my favourite bad movie!)

So my thoughts were rambling on, when BANG! Nasiruddin Shah had just shot himself dead right in front of Neha Dhupia and Paresh Rawal. His living room Turkish carpet lay splattered in his brain and blood. What the…???

So I rewinded back from where I had drifted. Shah has a 24 crore life insurance and suspects that his wife wants to murder him to get that money. So, he changes the terms of the insurance so that she will not get any money if he commits suicide, and right before shooting himself, challenges her to prove to the court of law that he was murdered, so she could get the life insurance money. How ingeneous! If she manages to prove it’s a murder then she will get the 24 crores, but she will also be the primary suspect for the murderer and will most probably be sentenced to death in the court of law. That would make one rich dead woman! And if, to save her ass, she says it’s a suicide, then she gets none of the insurance money.

I threw back the covers, and sat up in bed. And as the movie progressed, with Rawal and Dhupia, working in liason to prove that Shah was actually kidnapped and murdered by some petty thieves, so that they can share the 24 crores between them, I edged closer and closer to the television, until by the nail-biting climax I was actually standing a feet away from the screen, hardly being able to resist the urge to fast forward to the end and kill the suspense. But the best still was the brilliant twist at the absolute last scene which leaves you hungering for a sequel.

Why? Why was this movie never publicized? Why haven’t more people watched it? Why hasn’t it gotten rave reviews and awards? I me, movies like “Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna” and “Om Shanti Om” make money and no one even gets to know about “Maharathi”?

“Maharathi”- just another movie sentenced to the same fate of oblivion that other, absolutely brilliant, but lesser known stories like “Lal Pahari”, “Yugpurush” and “The Blue Umbrella” have been to in this country.

{ 3 comments }

On Turning 22

by Trina Talukdar on May 13, 2009

We all have our own mental categories about these things…age, time. Till 9 its early morning, 10-11 is late morning, 2-3 afternoon, 4 onwards evening and after 10 it was late night because that had always been my curfew.

It was the same thing with age. Till 6 years was the baby stage, 7-13 was the child, 13-21 the teenager (I know that goes against the whole nomenclature of the word ‘teenager’, but that’s how personal mental categories are, they don’t follow rules of nomenclature). But 22, oh god, now 22 was an adult! All my life I had categorized people above 21 as “dada-didi”, facing the world with a job, ready to get married and have children. And I was now approaching 22 with F1 speed and I spotted no pit-stops.

My most stark realization of growing up, funnily enough, was, not my periods or finishing school or my first boyfriend, but the bizarre realization that I now had to stop calling bus conductors, shop keepers and strangers Kaku, and had to call them Dada instead. And now that I was turning 22 I had to brace myself to be addressed as “Didi”, or maybe even… (shudder)… “Aunty”!

So I guess, this is one of those retrospective points of life. So I got a big mug of coffee and sat looking out the window at the first rains drenching Kolkata’s hottest summer in a decade. A romantic picture. And anyway, that’s how they all did their thinking in the movies. But my coffee finished, it stopped raining, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere with the retrospection. What had I done in these 22 years to be remembered, that was significant? Something that was different today as a result of the 22 years I had spent on this planet? I sifted through every achievement of my life, every item on my resume, every certificate I had, at night when I couldn’t sleep, in the day when the bus wouldn’t move in the traffic, at night as the IPL game crawled along.

Nothing. I wasn’t the world champion or even the state or school champion at any sports. I had never been on T. V. or the radio and obviously not the movies. I had been unable to publish any of my work, in spite of my confident childhood dreams of being a writer. I hadn’t gone to any fancy and famous foreign university. I hadn’t raised $ 500, 000 by the age of 12 for the impoverished around the world, or started an sms campaign to put bowls of water on verandahs to save the lives of birds dying of thirst. In short, if I hadn’t ever been born, it wouldn’t have a made a tiniest bit of difference. And suddenly it was like the 22 years of my life had never been because it had made no difference.

And, oh no, don’t try telling me I’m only 22 and it’s still too early to have made a difference, and that I have my whole life ahead of me to make my life significant, because there have been people a lot younger than me who have done way more. Bilal Rajan is the 12 year old who has raised the $ 500, 000 and is a UN representative to Canada. And he was 4 years old when he sold fruits to raise money for the Gujrat earthquake victims. There’s Robin, who’s been to 52 countries, served the military and managed to finish her masters too, all by 24 years. And there have been child sports and music and art protégées. I might have another 50 years of life left to make significant changes to this world for the better, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that I have wasted 22 years already. Doing what? Getting good grades in school and college, being a good daughter and making my parents proud, being supportive, funny and therefore popular with friends? Reading, watching movies, listening to music in the name of gathering knowledge so one day I could make a difference. But don’t you see, I have done nothing with that knowledge. All I have done anything for is myself- good grades so I would get a good job and be rich, be a good daughter so my parents would get me new phones and iPods and laptops. I have only taken from everyone, the world, society all these years and have given back nothing.

My mother, quite disturbed by my self-defeating article, tried convincing me that the 22 years were not a waste. That I was apparently preparing myself to make a difference. Well then, I think 22 years is about enough to prepare someone to jump into the world. And I was going to make excuses no longer.

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Why the World Never Changes

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October 20, 2008

Tinni,
Just read your blog.
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A Recipe for Poetry

October 18, 2008

Shred onions over the skyline,
Drop three spoonfuls of the Pacific Ocean into it,
One cup of snow flakes from the tip of Mt. Everest.
Stir the mixture gradually,
Whipping in two bowls of sand from the Sahara.
Sprinkle a pinch of earth dug up for the Metro Rail back home,
And heat it over the Vesuvius.
Three centuries and ten and [...]

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Love Songs

September 17, 2008

v
The traffic’s heavy,
The car’s been at a standstill
For 15 minutes or so.
The A.C. blares,
You have switched the music off.
Deafening silence.
And you utter the forbidden…
“Will you be with me forever?”
I wish the traffic would move,
Or that I could jump out of the car.
Forever?
It would take me an eternity to contemplate.

v
hack, haCK, HACK
Into my heart,
And tear everything [...]

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The True Art of Living

August 28, 2008

I went to the Art of Living Ashram last evening. And no, this is not going to be one of those spiritual, self-realization of my inner self, etc article. This is going to be more of a recollection of a night spent clubbing.
The suspicions started rising when the friends who were taking me there changed [...]

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