niralee

For all those who got excited in seeing Kay Kay Menon, Lilliput, Rajpal Yadav and Rupali Ganguli on posters and in promos, rest assured that they were the only assets that film makers could flaunt about this film! The film is about Pappu (Siddharth) who wants to fulfill the dream of his visually challenged friend Kuhu (Rajvi) to fly a parachute. In order to do this, the fugitive Siddharth, along with his friends, runs away from Nainital to Mumbai. Although one would expect some deliberate heroism on the kids’ part, it is only on the basis of chance that the plot functions and the kids happen to crack a terroristic plan and prevent a major attack. And the parachute tale is completely forgotten about. Besides this too, there are a lot of loop holes in the script and verisimilitude is missing throughout. As far as the performances are concerned, the kids cuteness and dimples capture your attention, their slow and predictablt dialogue delivery fail to hold it for too long (but are the kids

मुंबई, और ख़ास कर भारतवर्ष में अनेक वर्ष रहने के बाद शायद ही किसी को किसी चीज़ का आश्चर्य होता है. पर हाँ, कभी-कभी ऐसा कुछ हो जाता है, कोई ऐसा मिल जाता है, जिससे मन में एक मीठा अचरज हो उठता है, दिन में एक रौशनी सी भर जाती और चहरे पर एक मुस्कान छा जाती है :) ऐसा ही कुछ आज सुबह मेरे साथ हुआ. लोकल में सर की क्लिप से लेकर पैर के जूतों तक सब कुछ बेचनेवाले सुबह से शाम तक दिखाई पड़ते हैं. आज सुबह लडिज़ स्पेशल में एक औरत साबूदाना वडा, खिचड़ी, पोहा इत्यादि बेचने आई. नीली सलवार और फूलों वाली सफ़ेद कमीज़. छोटा कद मगर कद से कई ज्यादा ऊँची आवाज़. चहरे पर गज़ब का तेज़. "जल्दी बोलो, मैडम" की धुन से उसने पूरा डब्बा बाकायदा हिला रखा था. मैं एक कोने में खड़ी अख़बार पढ़ रही थी, वो छोड़ कर मैं तो बस उसकी फुर्ती देखती ही रह गयी. एक पल यहाँ तो एक पल वहाँ. बगल में दो चेन वाला पर्स टांग रखा था. उसका झोला मानो कोई अक्षय पात्र हो उस तरह चीज़ें उस में से निकलती ही जा रही थी. उसने सब कुछ इस सहुलियत से सजा रखा था की कोई भी चीज़ लेने-देने में उसे दस सेकंड से ज्यादा न लगे. अँधेरी और सान्ताक्रुज़ के बीच उसने हमा

Like any baby, covered in blood I came into being The other end of the umbilical cord Held my twin. Too huge to be a new born I had to be tied A white cloth wrapped around For a safe, cozy inside. When I was three, All my parents came together Time to choose a school: Socialist, Communist or Democratic? Democratic, they said And I set my foot in school. How good or bad? I don’t have an answer today And, the Deciders are dead! When I was young, I had quarrels with my twin (Like all you young) I only wish they were not so bloody An eye for an eye. And we both became blind… Unfortunately, Our mothers were dead too early! At 64, we still quarrel I wish we had grown up a little!

The only abstract thing that is “living”. Its abstraction is not defined by the virtue of being intangible but by being sublime; there is no way you can hold on it, it just evaporates. It is like sand that slips through your hand if you hold it tight, but it is like water that changes form if you keep it light. It belongs to all and yet it is no one’s property. For some it’s like a part of their body, of their being* and yet people deprived of this part have the same right on it. “To play around with language wisely is like practicing a sort of evocative witchcraft.” – Baudelaire. Language: the only divine thing that man owns  * in Urdu n French, tongue is the same word as language; zubaan n langue respectively :)