Living Dead

The beauty about fine cinema is that it forces you to introspect. Consider two movies Water and Dor. Ironically , both films dealt with how we , society , deal with widows. What was huge upsetting was the fact  while waster was based in 1938, Dor is perhaps based in today’s world . Nearly 70 years later, little has changed . The ostracisation and the atrocities are similar.

Consider a shocking statistic that makes me conclude that in spite of our boasts of being a knowledge economy, we are nothing but a society of of illiterates . There are ,according to the 2001 census over 34 million widows lead extremely pathetic lives. In Water , a widow asks the priest why they must follow this practice when the law doesn’t force it on them. He says : “To hamare liye achha hai, hum usey jaantey nahi . Aur agar jaantey hai, usey pehchaante nahi.” At that point I lost it. This had to stop. Why should women have to die everyday, even while living , just because their husband had died ? This is stone age sensibility.

We cannot be celebrating Indra Nooyi while forcing 7-year olds to tonsure their heads because of child marriages. No one visits those absurd custom. No one says hello to these horrible situations. We are all a bunch of under-the-carpet coward . The issues we grapple which are absurd: politics , civic amenities. our priorities are out of place. Equality of gender is the most basic human cause to embrace and rectify . Women are no longer anyone’s handmaidens .Let’s face it.

Each time one sees the movies like Water and Dor , no one likes to excuse it with the thought that may be illiteracy was responsible for all of this in the past. But what about now?

I am sure there could be stringent legislation against this. Perhaps, its not a fashionable cause of many . But I think , someone somewhere can put end to this nonsense. When a man see film like Dor and Water , he must be ashamed of being a man.


Posted by on March 16, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Blind Faith

I visited many temples in Mumbai. At one temple , a huge crowd had collected . Every person , according to his capacity , was carrying  with him a glass, a pitcher or an urn to worship the idol. Every person was a more eager than the next to bathe the deity. They were pushing aside one another to go forward . Who knows the deity was being bathed not with faith but with milk. That same milk , mixed with water , was flowing down the drain. On both sides along the way to the temple , naked , hungry and starving children stood yearning for just a drop of milk and small pieces of bread. And these devotees in their great concentrated devotion ,could see only an imaginary deity embodied in stone . They had no eyes for those children , lying on the road-side ,lying under the shadow of death.

And then I closed my eyes and said to myself , “Just see the greatness of your divine and spiritual country — where the living ones are doled out , death and flowers are showered on the dead . Here it is luckier to be stoned because then you would at least be worshiped.”

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Posted by on March 14, 2014 in Uncategorized


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