Sairat : A Contemplation on The Tragedy of Indian Society

As the Marathi movie 'Sairat' winds up, as you see two little feet walking away from the screen leaving wet footprints, a sense of tragedy hangs around you: A sense of tragedy and loss, and of unbearable pain. If you examine the pain closely, you observe that it was a pain you had ingested into your mental life way back- A pain so dense that you cannot be a person until you learn to lock it away in the deep recesses of your being. It is a sum total of many pains…  A pain on beautiful things getting spoilt; a pain of lost moments you cannot get back; a pain for love you carve for; a pain for respect and dignity of human life getting denied,  and a pain of failing to understand why when everyone wants to be happy they end up making each others' lives hell.

Cyberbully : More or Less a Movie Review

A word you speak is yours no more. They take wings once they reach some pairs of ears, more so, if they were words that contain bitterness. You might have let it fall from your mouth casually. Yet it may take a bullet’s speed when someone gets hit by it. And there would be repercussions: Those who got hit may hit you back; You might lose friends;You might make enemies. If that makes you cautious about your words, what about when no one would know who hit them? When one is online, he can hide behind a mask. He could say anything about anyone, yet  never know it’s impact.

 It might seem obvious : the theme of The movie Cyberbully is  trolling, or cyber-bullying. What is cyberbullying? That too might be obvious : You put on a fake name and fake profile picture. You let loose snide comments and an array of curse words below someone else's content. Well, you might be 'innocent'.May be it is well within your 'rights' to express your opinions in what ever way that pleases you. Or you might have had your reasons for that. You might not have predicted how others would build on the negativity by adding more abuses. May be, you’d never guessed the wound your words might inflict.  But, when you realize the gravity of your mistakes, when you come to see how cruel a fate your words had caused in someone else’s life, how do you make amends?  Cyberbully  is a chilling story of a teenager breaking under the weight of her guilt and self-doubt, when she comes under an attack of unkind words and unsavory deeds that troll many a naive souls like hers online.

For a story unfolding inside a small room with just one character sitting in front of her computer for 60 minutes, the movie Cyberbully is a gripping, emotional and thought provoking tale. There are elements of surprise, shock, pain, uncertainty, moral dilemma and a sense of nearing climax all through the movie. Maisie Williams, the young petite actress who plays Casey, the protagonist, does a brilliant job in etching out a picture of a willful ordinary teenager finding herself in an impossible situation.  After 60 minutes of ordeal, when she finally manages to call ‘Dad…’ in a breaking voice, you would feel like rushing to her, hug her tight and tell her, ‘It’s okay. Be brave, my girl. I am with you’. 

Why do people bully? Why do they tend to be crueler to their victims online, when they are behind the mask of a fake identity than they would be in real life? Is it because some inborn cruelty? Is it because their cynicism and utter lack of faith in humanity? How could anyone justify denying their fellow beings their dignity by hedging ugly abuses? How could they shrug off the damage they do to community health by advocating that ‘ people ought to grow thick skins instead of blaming us.’?

Even as we contemplate on complexities and moral conundrums, the online space is getting more and more polluted, more and more unforgiving, intolerant and corrupting. The younger generation will be exposed to these earlier than they have the moral strength to survive the inhumanity they might face. No doubt, there is an urgent need to something constructive about the issue of cyber bullying. And there is something we could do about it right now : Let’s be nice, and be respectful. Let’s report abuses we see online to the moderators of the forums where we came upon them. Let’s ask the websites who make millions and billions as revenue, all thanks to their users, to take responsibility to make their online space clean, safe and abuse-free.Let’s hope in a future where people happily choose to be responsible, understanding and kind, both online and offline.

  I started it as a movie review. It does look something short of what it was meant to be. No names of stars and directors. No mention of their nationalities and other little peculiarities... I know.  In case you are interested, you could get all those info here : IMDB 

 Here's the Channel 4's official page on the TV Movie : Cyberbully

And here's the wikipedia page on one of the real-life  terrible incidents on which the story is distantly based on : Amanda Todd

My simple concluding words : A movie that makes me contemplate on an issue I didn't give a second thought before, is a movie worth watching. Cyberbully was one of them.

Disclaimer :  I don't own the video. It belongs to who posted it on Youtube. I'm sharing it because I believe it is a story worth sharing. 

The Violinist

The bow danced gracefully over the fiddle

Now thoughtful,  now cheerful.

The voice… it sang, it wept, it called;

At my heart-strings it pulled.

That blithe youth, whose hand guided the bow,

Was he the Master of the music he made?

His eyes smiled, tears sparkled on the lashes,

His violin sang, and something quivered in my soul.

Slender he sat, with feline grace,

With lips in a playful curve, hugging his fiddle like a lover.

Was he whispering his love in her ear?

Was it her singing back to him which I heard?

At that moment my musings stopped, when,

That music ethereal permeated mortal senses;

Mine, and his; and hers; and theirs all; It erased personal boundaries.

And grasped all spirits in a single hold.

There stood all souls merged together, if for a moment.

For a moment.

Then, they fell back to earth, 

with a sigh of yearning in each body.

Things Fall Apart

My little glass orb filled with light,

It shone with colours vivid and bright.

I remember not letting it fall

Alas! There it lies.

Broken fragments scattered all over.

My little world has fallen apart.

To put it together once again,

To get back it’s sheen and shine

On the glass-strewn floor I must walk,

And bleed if I must, but I won’t balk.

Top 10 Quirky Albert Einstein Quotes, Plus 1 Quirkiest

Yep, spot on. I always knew I didn't like people quoting  "Curiosity killed the cat."

This sounds nice. A tongue-twister.

Picket 43 : A Movie Review

                      Imagine an ordinary soldier of Indian Army, alone in a small hut by a wire fence. To add more elements to your imagination: that fence is the Line of Control (LoC) that separates the snow-clad Himalayas into India and Pakistan; that part (or 'picket') of LoC is generally lightly guarded by one soldier each from  the two countries, defending their side; that part is called 'Picket 43', by the Indian side; that also happens to be a part where ceasefire violations are looming as a deadly threat over any soldier's fate, who is living a hermit's life there, removed from human company and comforts; Now, this soldier who is defending the Indian territory: he is lives in the Indian hut at the picket 43 with a lone army dog and a transistor radio as companions, waiting with mounting frustrations, for letters from home that might arrive with weekly rations ; he is a south Indian, unmarried, has a ailing mother back at home in Kerala, and he is percieved as weak-willed by his immediate senior officer.  And he is posted to this picket after his predecessor was killed and beheaded by militants while guarding the same picket. That is the setting of this beautifully scripted movie Picket 43. If you think that with such a setting, it has to be a gruesome action drama, you can only be less than half right.

Why do I Love Poetry?

A conversation with the closest friend of mine from my college days recently, made me reflect on this question: why do I love poetry? It led to some surprising discoveries. Nothing could be more surprising than the recollection that not long ago, if you had asked me, ' Hey, Jijnasa, who's poetry you love the most?', I'd have gone blank and said,' Urgh! I do not read any.'

But, then, when did I fell in love with it?
Hard to say. Because I do not remember falling, you know.

Mr.#SaudiDiplomat and Other Little Troubles in Diplomacy

              Last week, when our dear newspapers and twitter folks, Indian and global alike, raged on over the scandal involving a diplomat of Saudi Arabia posted in India, many a naive souls would have thought: ' This is the last straw! All the values of democracy are at stake! Human rights so horribly violated, terrible crime committed, by the very person who was expected to behave as an example of solidarity of nations for the cause of global peace and wellbeing?! No, we are not taking it anymore.This is the end. We are going to see a major revision in Vienna Convention or such stupid treaties on 'Diplomatic Immunity' very soon. We can not just let rapists and murderers go on committing, well, rape,murders and other horrible things....'

Here is Ms. Naive Person, in conversation with Mr.Saudi,Mr.America and Mr.India. Of course, all characters are imaginary. All the usual disclaimers apply.

The Dream

Blue skies and green lands;
  Lush fields and roaring waterfalls;
Fruits, flowers, lawns and palaces;
  All are yours.

Kind smiles and nice talks;
Sweet children and loving embraces,
Respect,rights,friends and admirers;
   All are yours.

Animus

I cannot wait to know this man.

My words, whispers and secrets find way to him.

Ever so near he is, though I see him not.

I worry, he pacifies; I weep, he consoles;

When I try to hold him to me, he exists no more.

Love

Love....
Is that what you call it when
  you have sleepless eyes and restless mind?
When all your thoughts keep falling off the same cliff,
    And somehow your soul seems to be lost?

Each of your sighs take you further away
   Leaving all the paths of your life in tangles.
You sense a mystery, feel it weighing you down
  Yet, dare not push it away, nor to unravel it.

Home

My legs lead me as easily as heart beats;

With each footfall, wind soaks me 

with fragrance of familiarity.

Every murmur heard is in the language of my blood;

Every giggle is in harmony with my own.

Cat and dog, man and woman all know me;

I’m home. I know them too.

Rest

Time-tables none are thrust upon me

                             To race with Time,

Nor do lists of unfinished tasks

                             Haunt my dreams.

Eyelids mine close when they want to,

                             Open not shocked by alarm’s shriek.

Passions, colorful, are  my only visitors

                             During the day; peaceful dreams in sleep.

I am at rest.

Photo of The Week: Shades of an evening

Shades of an evening

Photo of The Week:Sunset through the palace gate of Mysore Palace

Sunset through the palace gate of Mysore Palace

Where was this taken and when? - Mysore,Karnataka; on 23.08.15
Photo Credits?                               - Myself  (Isn't it beautiful? Thank you!)

What is so special about this?     -Taken from the bus, while I was returning home from Mysore,   after appearing for Civil Services Prelims. I am excited to have such a nice souvenir of my detour to Mysore, despite the very short stay.