That was the lesson I learnt yesterday after surviving one hell of a day.
And, it all started at IIJNM...
....
Still determined to get a byte of Ms. Revathi (the hijra I was referring to in my previous rant aka post), my friend and I decided (on an impulse) that we’ll leave as early as possible to reach Sangama office, about 2 hours from the “countryside” (as Prof Mark puts it) where we reside in. Excited that finally it was about to happen, we prepared ourselves for what was to follow, brushing up our Tamil skills (Revathi knew only Tamil) and constantly thinking of some intelligent questions to ask. Cell phones and cameras all charged, umbrella and water bottle in hand and with enough extra cash, we set off to our supposed destination after a few minutes of unnecessary delay about which I do not wish to elaborate.
And so we left. Waiting for more than 15 minutes at the bus stop, we finally boarded the bus for the Market, from where we had to take another bus and reach Mekhri, form where we had to take an auto and reach Sangama office.
*yeah, you can call us over-ambitious!!
Knowing that we will have to travel all day long, my friend suggested that we buy bus passes for the day. The pass did come in handy (if not anything else). Unaccustomed to traveling for such long hours, I geared up myself for a long journey to be undertaken. All for a purpose, I told myself. It’s all going to be worth it. Or so I thought.
Lost in my day dreaming world and half-asleep inside the bus, the noise and smell of rain woke me up. Looking out of the window, I witnessed, for the first time, how Namma Bengaluru looks when covered with rain, mud, potholes and people (whose number increases regardless of the amount of rainfall the city receives). The streets were all flooded and muddy water was stagnant here and there. Umbrellas getting broken, people using their bags to shield themselves and kids splashing water at each other—it was a sight to remember.
But, what about our story???
We were getting terribly late.Stuck in the horrible traffic jam, we had no other option but to cancel our plan because there was no way we could reach the destination on time, unless we had a private chopper to our rescue. [And, life is not so easy!]
Cribbing and complaining about the unproductive turn of events so far, as we were chatting over lunch at a shady restaurant, we decided we would watch Peepli [Live], an Aamir Khan production, that was apparently based on farmer suicides and media bashing, in accordance with what I had been told. I was determined to do something fruitful on a day when almost nothing was working out...
I called up one of my local friends who stays in the city to inquire about the show timings. If he wouldn’t have replied in the affirmative, I probably would have killed myself. Or him (would have probably done the latter ;P)
Once he informed me about the timings, we did not waste a second. After our lunch, we boarded a bus back to the place where we started from, hoping that the movie would compensate for the disappointment that we had faced so far. And, for once, we weren’t disappointed :-)
I wouldn’t like to bore my readers with a detailed review of the movie (my usual habit whenever I watch a movie or read a book). But, I would definitely recommend it. The story line is great. The concept isn’t anything ‘new’—farmer suicides has been a very topical issue in our country since years and nothing constructive has been done about it—neither by the government nor by the media. And, this is what Peepli [Live] picks up on. Using laughter and humour as a powerful tool, the movie uses comedy in a constructive manner so as to make the viewer laugh and simultaneously ponder over the reason for the laughter generated. But, it was rather disappointing to see the audience reaction. Firstly, there was hardly an audience for a low-budget movie like this. And, secondly, people were just laughing and giggling about the ridiculousness of the circumstance(s) that was shown. For most of them, it was just a way to kill time, laugh out loud, forget about it and plan the next movie accordingly. If this was the case, I believe the purpose of the director was has not been achieved, sadly.
The movie shows how sensationalizing every other story has become a habit of the media that is portrayed as a voyeuristic vulture ready to attack the next victim who commits the mistake of trusting the media. Making a story out of someone’s death (which is yet to occur)and even someone’s shit (and quite literally so)—this is an art our media seems to have excelled in. It’s a sad reality but it is real and one cannot deny that. Being someone who wishes to excel in this profession, to watch the reality of Indian media was definitely disheartening. But, I hope to bring in some tangible change and am determined not to give up my hopes and faith in the so-called fourth pillar of our democracy.
Raghubir Yadav, as usual, has acted brilliantly. And so have almost all the other characters, the name of whom I fail to remember. The rural atmosphere has been captured well and I was particularly impressed by the folk music that was cleverly incorporated in the movie, wherever required.
Well, I promised I won’t rant about my review. And, that is exactly what I have done! Can’t stop my fingers from typing, it seems...
