Pushkar

I have mixed feelings about Pushkar.

The day we reached I hated it. Lots of Israeli druggies everywhere, shopkeepers trying their broken English on you, people at the ghats trying to fleece you, like a bigger version of Paharganj or Janpath. But after a day you kind of get into the groove. The shopkeepers recognize you and don’t bother to call out to you any more. Thanks to the Israelis you get yummy humus, falafel and pita bread everywhere. Also pancakes and delicious cakes and pies.

In fact, since there isn’t much to do, you start the day at one café, smoke some, eat a big breakfast spread over two or three hours, amble down to the next café, maybe pick up some Chinese pajamas on the way, smoke some more, eat again and so on till it’s dark. At which point you mix drinks in coke bottles and walk by the lake, eat some, smoke some. Very relaxing.

The gang arrived on the 25th and that was fun – lots of inane laughter about nothing at all! We climbed a hill and there was a beautiful view from the top – one side Pushkar town and the lake and the other the start of dunes, children sliding down them. Also went for a camel safari which was great ‘cept that your thighs ache the next day. Mahender and Suresh, the two camel boys scored some awesome maal for us for a hundred and fifty compared to the six hundred which is the standard price.

Despite all the tourists, the local people are extremely innocent. Chatted to a lot of them. How they feel blessed to have been born in holy Pushkar, a few of them have been to cities such as Delhi – how they hated the pollution, noise and aggression. Some of the café owners have even traveled to Europe thanks to the tourist friends that they made – Greece, Germany and of course Israel!

One of our favourite cafes, right by the lake, had a Christmas party on the 24th – they got it a little mixed up with New Year’s though. Thought they had to wait till midnight for some reason. Most people had left by ten, and every time people would get up to leave they would entreat them to stay till 12 when they would cut the huge cake which said ‘Happy Marry X’mas’ – it was really sweet. We were the last to leave at 11.30 – would have stayed till midnight except that the place we were staying was really far. There were some local boys gathered around a bonfire at the party, one of them had a cigarette and there was this major excitement in the air. B and I tried to figure out what the excitement was about – was it a joint perhaps? No, it was just a regular ciggie that they lit after much discussion and passed around like naughty schoolboys – they were about twenty or twenty one years old. It was very endearing.

We stopped overnight in Jaipur on the way to Pushkar which was fun – checked out the city palace and did some shopping – blue shoes for me, pink Jaipuri quilt for Mom. B bought lots of music in Pushkar – you get stuff there that isn’t available in Delhi.

In all, yes, I think I would go back!
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Have been reading Krishnamurti’s Journal. A bit to remember:

Have you ever wondered why human being go wrong, become corrupt, indecent in their behaviour – aggressive, violent and cunning? It’s no good blaming the environment, the culture or the parents. We want to put the responsibility for this degeneration on others or on some happening. Explanations and causes are an easy way out. The ancient Hindus called it karma, what you sowed you reaped. The psychologists put the problem in the lap of the parents. What the so-called religious say is based on their dogma and belief. But the question is still there.

Then there are others, born generous, kind, responsible. They are not changed by the environment or any pressure. They remain the same in spite of all the clamour. Why?

Any explanation is of little significance. All explanations are escapes, avoiding the reality of ‘what is’. This is the only thing that matters. The ‘what is’ can be totally transformed with the energy that is wasted in explanations and in searching out the causes.
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This is something I was trying to post on the 16th but couldn’t so here it is now:

Conversations between my Mom and my Niece

This is the argument my Mom and Niece had this evening:

Don’t wave around your hands while you drink your milk or you’ll spill it.

(Sure enough, the milk spills on to the table.)

It told you not to do that! You silly girl! You’re so stupid! (This may seem a little harsh but my Mom was tired and she had been telling her not to wave her hands about a million times.)

Nani! You said a bad word. You can’t say bad words.

No I didn’t. ‘Stupid’ isn’t a bad word. It just means not intelligent.

But it’s not true cos I am intelligent.

Intelligent people don’t wave around their arms when they’re drinking their milk.

Whoever says it, they are it first.

That’s true in most cases but not in this one.

Yes, it is. It’s always true.

What? Do you see me waving around my cup of chai like this. (Mom does weird routine with arms flailing.)

They both burst into laughter.
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Then later, same evening:

Are you doing your bedtime susu darling?

No, I’m brushing my teeth first.

Oh, I thought I’d let you off brushing your teeth today since it’s so late. (re: the Christmas dance in my last post)

Oh, okay. I’ll just eat the toothpaste then.

!! !! !! :)
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In Pushkar I checked up on the blog world from a cyber café one day and was very saddened to know that two of my favourite bloggers have decided / been forced to quit blogville – kraz and Ani this means you. Also where are you Nitin D?? Ah he’s sitting at a remote café, playing chess with strangers and writing notes in a notebook with a pen – time to put that notebook online pal!

The Morning After

I had the best time ever last night.

Went to a pub, there were 2 great bands playing, and I don't know what magic was cast. I suddenly found myself dancing and jumping and making everyone else do the same. Went up to a little nerdy guy who was writing and drawing stuff in a little notebook, stuff like 'Fuck the visuals' and other such shit and had a little chat with him. Headbanging with complete strangers. I've never felt so good. Lost myself in the music. Lost myself.

This was me, the usually extremely reticent, shy, self-conscious me.

It was great. It was great that my friends seemed so happy for me. All the smiles. All the hugs. Hmm...life is good. People are beautiful.

I feel, and I know this is very cliched, but I feel like a flower that's been closed for so long, hiding away, shutting it all out. But now slowly opening, testing, and finding to my surprise that it's all good.

Am leaving tomo morning for Pushkar. Driving down with B. Other friends may or may not join us for Christmas eve. It's going to be great.

Come Forth and Show Yourself DAMNIT

Why is it so difficult to find a person with whom you can connect?

Me, age one. 

At Anjuna, age 3! 

Always an animal lover! 

The First Day!

My niece has put on a tape of Christmas carols and is dancing and jumping on my Mom’s bed – now she’s curled up on the floor for some reason! Oh, she says she’s being an animal!

Just dyed my hair and it’s turned out some strange colour. Oh well, maybe it’ll look better when it’s completely dry and in the daylight.

Well, yesterday happened to be my last day at work. I thought I was working till the end of the week but apparently not, since I had joined on the 15th they assumed my last day would be the 15th. So I got paid and was bid goodbye to! Felt a little sad, and a bit of a traitor. But today after waking up at lunch time and just bumming around, doing little chores around the house, I don’t feel bad anymore!

I’ve been sleeping like mad. Went to see the late show of ‘Ocean’s Twelve’ yesterday, and though I really enjoyed the first half I fell asleep during the interval and woke up with a start at the end of the film! Then woke up at 1 today when Rani my wonderful maid came (how could I EVER suspect her of stealing?). Then did some stuff and at around six was sleepy again and napped for an hour. My mom says it’s cos I must subconsciously feel that a load has been lifted off of me. I have to agree.

Anyhow, boss woman came back with good news – she met some Bollywood producers and things may be happening soon. Plus the docu seminar she went for is looking for films by first time directors so she tried to sell me! Have to come up with a concept by 28th Feb. Not even going to think about it now. Though some thoughts did pop into my mind as I was washing off the darn dye…

Had this conversation with A, the hippie chick yesterday –

Where are you from A?

South Africa.

Ah, and how long have you been in the UK?

Two and a half years. I’ve been in the UK for two and a half years and four months in India. I might stay here for another 6 months.

And what would you do in those 6 months? (I ask this cos she’s been here for 4 months but in previous conversations I have gathered that she has done little traveling, no exploring, has nothing interesting to say about this place other than ‘It’s beautiful!’)

Well, you see, I have this laptop that I brought here. So I’m gonna buy some software and then learn the software.

Software? (Me thinking the hippie chick is a secret techno freak??) What kind of software?

Audio.

(Totally confused) Are you a musician? (Incredulous, as she has never participated in any of the singing sessions, and in the concert that we just came out of she was not as much as tapping her foot)

Umm…sort of.

After a pause during which I smile weakly, I say: But couldn’t you do that in the UK?

Yes, but it’s winter there.


But of course, why didn’t I think of that logical explanation?? Need I say more? She was so self-assured during this conversation. And I, have always, been somewhat apologetic when I’ve told people what work I do cos I always feel that I’m not doing something worthwhile. Geez. I may not make it as a hippie but I sure need to loosen up!

The Wondrous Moonwalking Cat / Holiday Plans

The cat has learnt to moonwalk!

I swear it’s true. He puts both his front paws on a CD and then moves his hind legs to slide backward across the room in one smooth motion! Only thing is when B and I attempt to give him background music by singing ‘Beat it!’ he stops cold in his tracks and stares at us as if to say, ‘Silly humans!’

His other feats include peeing into the toilet pot (which he achieves perfectly without a drop on the seat) and opening doors (which he achieves by jumping on to and hanging on to the door handle till the latch gives way).

Very accomplished, this cat of mine!

I read recently that in the EU pets now require passports to travel. How cute is that! Imagine my baby’s passport – Mr. T____ Cat (yes, that’s his full name) with an expressionless passport photo alongside! Mwuah!
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It is getting much too cold. Can’t bear the toilet seat in the mornings. (Note to self: Put cat to work, get him to warm seat.)

On top of which my stupid friends want to go to McLeod Gunj for Christmas. I keep telling them it will be freezing and their toes will turn black but they seem determined. Must think of some warmer alternatives and innovative ways to convince them.

J is carting his bike to Goa and then he and a friend are biking down to Kerala. Not fair! I threw a big fit when he told me but he refuses to take me cos he says women are a liability on a bike trip. Bah. But then he followed it up with how dangerous it could be and how he would never take anyone he cared about on one. Well…

The Englishman is having another terrace party, think I’ll go this time. It’s so cute how his invites always say bring your own mug/glass cos he’s against plastic!

I WANT OUT! / The Good Witch

1.34 am. Alone at home. Typing on the computer.
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Did next to nothing at work today. Am just dying to get out and go on vacation now that I’ve made up my mind I’m quitting. Am supposed to complete the scene breakdown for a script before I leave. Did some of it interspersed with long breaks of blog-hopping! Can’t wait for the week to get over.
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We are both totally broke. I’m not sure how that happened cos I didn’t do any big spending this month. I wonder if the maid found my stash of cash. Or maybe it’s because B hasn’t made much this month.

The both of us really need to be more financially responsible. Neither of us ever know where our money is going. It’s party when you have it and eat anda-bread when you don’t.

I’m actually kind of enjoying being broke since I know we will both be getting money on Wednesday so it’s not long-lasting. It’s fun to juggle money and make sure you spend only on essentials. Makes you value the taste of simple food much more.

It’s strange how you will run out of everything, at exactly the same time when you are broke – cat food, coffee, moisturizer, lens solution, sugar, toothpaste – somehow everything finishes exactly when you’re totally broke.
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Just came back from seeing ‘Musafir’ with L. Was fun except had to listen to Christian theology in the car. But the gospel music made up for it!

B’s gone to a pub. Still not home. Will probably get back at 5 or something.
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Met an interesting woman at the pothead party yesterday.

She is the Renaissance Woman.

She teaches yoga at the Sivananda centre (that’s a serious place not just some neighbourhood class). She is an artist working in mixed media and has regular exhibitions. She is a gold medallist MBA from IIM. She has worked with the World Bank advising the Haitian government on what crops to grow. She has a new tattoo on her lower back based on the Golden Section and gave us a discourse on how it appears in nature, art and architecture; digressing into the Fibonacci series and the Chaos theory as well!

She is in her forties and looks like a kind, good witch. She has lovely warm smiling eyes with crinkled laugh lines at the corners and shortish curly damp-looking hair. And a lovely glow. She dresses very chic, and try as I might I could not find anything pseudo about her.

You can’t even call her a goddess cos she is just so real. And genuinely interested in everyone around her.

I have seen her around at parties but never got talking before. The next time I’m going to corner her and pick her brains, ask her about her philosophy of life.

Jobless / Hippiedom / Hark the Herald Angels

I quit my job on Friday.

It was a decision somewhat thought out, though not entirely. I realized that I can’t go on like this – doing shitty jobs, waiting forever for a film to take place. I had to quit for my own sanity – I was getting too bored, irritable, depressed.

I was not too sure what I was going to do next when I told boss woman on Friday, and I still am not. There is still the open offer from the ex-office – but I know I don’t want to go back there permanently, back into the rut, that would be a regression. The freelance offer from them sounds better. Plus N has come up with a practical, viable business idea and wants me as a partner.

What took me totally aback was the reaction I got from boss woman. At first she told me to think again seriously about Film School. Then in the afternoon boss woman’s husband had a long chat with me about ‘the nature of the film business’. I told him I would like to work with them whenever a film happened but thought that it might not be worth their while to pay my air travel when they could hire local people. But he said that it would be worth their while and they would definitely want me on board! :) We also talked about working out something where I would come in for one day a week only.

Then later in the evening I called boss woman just to say I was leaving and she kept me on the phone for over half an hour. She encouraged me to go ahead with my documentary concept on my own. She said I had developed it well and it had a good rhythm. She suggested ways I could get funding in India. She stressed that I should not go back to my old job! She said I don’t need to work with them if I hated it but that I could use her name and her production company’s name and experience to apply for funding! That is really generous.

I’m still feeling totally loopy about everything. Will still be here till this Friday, the 17th to wind things up. Then plan to take a long vacation – at least two weeks to get my brain sorted out. And then January will be here and I’ll have to go at it with all I’ve got.

I can see that things are going to be financially screwed up for a bit. B will have to take on more than half the responsibility for a while. Hope we will manage okay.
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Spent Saturday night and Sunday afternoon smoking pot and singing with B’s hippie friends, S and A, from London.

It was quite fun, they run a commune there where B had stayed for a few days.

S has an awesome voice and sings beautiful keertans. He even attempted some Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It was nice, being high, singing ‘Shiv Shiv bol’ which suddenly turned into ‘my guitar gently weeps’!

Which makes me wonder – could I cut it as a hippie? Am afraid I couldn’t. I am way too cynical, was making cynical observations throughout the jolly singing party in fact! Plus it has been so ingrained in me not to be economically dependent on anyone that there is no way I could live by mooching off other people.

Plus, I do not want to randomly have babies!

Yup, I have too much of a guilt complex to make a successful hippie. Oh well!
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Sunday evening went to a choir concert at F’s church. Very beautiful. I want to sing in one too. Must make an effort next year to infiltrate one.

Life is Beautiful

Have applied for a distance Film Journalism course at the BFI. Submitted the following review as part of my application. This was written when 'Life is Beautiful' was released in India - 1999 or 2000 from what I remember. Afraid it might be immature but didn't have time to do a fresh review, just added the synopsis as it's a requirement. Hoping for the best, though it will be a struggle paying for the course even if I do get through.

Life is Beautiful

Synopsis

Arezzio, Italy, 1939. Guido, a Jew, arrives with his companion Ferruccio looking for work. He runs into a beautiful non-Jewish school teacher, Dora, with whom he falls in love. Guido’s uncle sets him up as a waiter in a high-end restaurant where Guido meets Doctor Lessing, a German official obsessed with riddles. Guido wants to open a bookshop and goes for relevant permissions to Rudolfo, a Fascist official, with whom he has an unpleasant, comic experience. Guido courts Dora, impersonating a school inspector to visit her. Guido learns that Dora is engaged to Rudolfo, but they steal away from her engagement reception, get married, and have a son, Giosue. They open a bookshop and lead a fairytale existence. However, anti-Semitism is growing and Guido is forced to make up funny tales to explain away anti-Semitic slogans to his son.

On Giosue’s fifth birthday, he and Guido are arrested and put on a train to a concentration camp. Dora insists on being deported as well. To shield his son from the horrors of the concentration camp, Guido pretends that it is the elaborate setting for a game in which points are to be gained to win a real tank. Guido meets Doctor Lessing again, and thinks that he is willing to help them escape. However, Lessing is just interested in discussing riddles. When the Germans abandon the camp, Guido manages to escape and hide Giosue. He looks for Dora, but is found and shot. Giosue is rescued by an American soldier in a tank who unites him with Dora.

Review

If ever a master of slapstick was born to follow Chaplin he is Roberto Benigni. The comfortable ease and precision of timing which mark his performance in Life is Beautiful leave one awe-struck. Though the film is starkly divided into two movements, the idyllic joy at Arezzio, and the grim certainties at the concentration camp, Benigni does not miss a beat. This unchanging positivity is essential for a film on the ability of imagination to overcome all odds.

Benigni’s triumph lies in that though his audience is faced with the grim reality of the holocaust, and that the peril of the characters being exterminated increases with every minute of film time, tears are virtually non-existent. It is only at the end with the voice-over of the child thanking his father, that Guido’s strength of spirit, awakened to protect his son, his cheerfulness and refusal to give in to the luxury of sobbing over his fate, cause eyes to well up in silent admiration.

Nicola Piovani’s Oscar-winning dramatic score at times comes out of its role as mere background music meant to highlight the visuals, and becomes the primary sensation, with the visuals as accompaniment. There is nothing amiss in the setting up of an Italy of 1939, from excellent locations to show both Arezzio and the concentration camp, to the costumes and manner of the characters.

It is easy to overlook the other brilliant actors in the film since Benigni steals the show. Sergio Bustric as Ferruccio, Guido’s friend, poet, and upholsterer, plays his supporting role in the first part of the film well. Nicoletta Braschi, Benigni’s real life wife and co-star in almost all his films, is charming as his ‘Principessa’. Giustino Durano as Guido’s reserved, but witty uncle, shone in the first scene he appears in, hurriedly welcoming Guido as he makes his way to work on his white steed ‘Robin Hood’. The bond between Benigni and Giorgio Cantarini who plays his son is always present.

This film took the festival circuit by storm, winning innumerable awards all over Europe, besides winning three Oscars for Best Actor (Roberto Benigni, beating both Tom Hanks and Nick Nolte), Best Original Dramatic Score (Nicola Piovani, beating Hans Zimmer) and Best Foreign Film. It was also nominated in the categories of Best Picture and Best Director (both honours rarely given to a foreign film), Best Screenplay (Vincenzo Cerami and Benigni) and Best Film Editing.

But, as with other holocaust comedies before it, Life… opened to a lot of criticism in 1997. Time magazine wrote: “…turning even a small corner of this century’s central horror into feel-good popular entertainment is abhorrent.” The usual Freudian analysis has dubbed it as a depiction of ‘symbolic castration’. Besides the known obvious that comedy brings out tragedy in greater proportion, the fact is that in times when newspapers report that seventy percent of schoolchildren suffer from anxiety attacks and nightmares because of environmental deterioration, films like Life…serve an important purpose.

As the prophet says:

Have no fear for atomic energy, ‘cause none of them can stop the times…

- Bob Marley, Redemption Song
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S's sister N has been down here from New York. Who would have thought he would have such a nice sister? Have been having a great time hanging out with her. Wish she lived here permanently. She is an architect, has been to Rhode Island School of Design, and currently is designing the new subway system in NYC - how cool is that? Plus she coffees with Mila Jovovich!

She hates it in NYC and would love to move here. Wants to have a steady relationship and settle down with babies. All her friends in NY are gay or deranged.

She is very easy-going and laidback, yet has experimented with everything there is to experiment with.

Tomorrow's her last day here. Hope she finds some great straight guy in the last 24 hours and decides to move here!

Rubbish

Have not been writing recently cos I’ve been feeling sort of ‘obligated’ to write happy stuff, interesting stuff, instead of the whiny poor-me stuff that I usually do.

Thought to myself that there is no point writing about sad things, better to wait for happy things to write about.

I don’t want to appear silly, self-centred, full of self-pity. But I am all those things. And unless I do write about them, how will I ever get over them?

Besides, this is supposed to be my space, right? So if people don’t like it they can just go someplace else.
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So I have been feeling very conflicted about work. Whether it is worth dealing with all the shit that boss woman puts me through for a dream. Whether hanging on here will get me closer to the dream. Whether I have the talent to realize the dream.

Lots of negative thoughts resulting in an immense waste of energy.

I want to change this around. The key is to be positive – yes, the old cliché. I can’t go on, waking up each morning with this self-doubt. To be honest, I haven’t even given myself a proper chance here, haven’t taken enough initiative, haven’t asserted myself, laid down the law as to what I consider within my work and what I don’t and simply will not do.

I want to stop hunching and walk tall.

It is confusing.

A few days ago I decided to stay on till the 15th, till after the workshop and then take a fifteen day vacation alone. Maybe even check in to a meditation retreat for a couple of days and make a solid decision and then stick to it. I am too confused here to figure out what’s good for me and what isn’t. The more people I talk to, the more confusing it gets. And in the end it’s I who have to live the hours, not B or J or whoever else. So I have to make the decision for myself and live by it.

Robot Dreams, cover art by Ralph McQuarrie 

Robot Dreams

The picture above is from the book cover of ‘Robot Dreams’ by Asimov. (Well, that’s obvious!!)

Bought this book second-hand from a pavement seller last Saturday. Would have even if the cover was plain black since I love Asimov, but was blown by the cover art. The roundness of the robot – the arch of his foot, his rear, the top of his head. The purple highlights on his metallic body and the warm yellow highlights on the left. The sea beyond – sparkling, yet a sort of greyish-greenish blue. The way his body is slouched. The eyelids and the slightly open ‘mouth’. ‘Robot Dreams’. Yes.

Looked up the artist, Ralph McQuarrie on the net and found some great stuff on his site. He has designed for the Star Wars trilogy – R2D2, Darth Vader, the ‘H’ and ‘X’ crafts – are all his designs. Lovely etchings, more book covers and concept art as well. (Title of this post linked to his site).

I find good science fiction art ‘chilling’. There’s no better word to describe how I feel when I look at it. And I don’t mean ‘chilling’ to mean scary or disturbing. I mean it in a very positive way. It makes my mind soar and stimulates my imagination. Gives me a sense of peace. Makes me go back and look again and again.

The only person I can really talk Sci Fi with is J. The both of us still love the classic Asimovs and are not too fond of the newer Greg Egans and William Gibsons. Only thing is he is a huge ‘Star Wars’ fan and I am not. Can’t stand the three new ones at all. The original trilogy is better, but according to me doesn’t qualify as Science Fiction.

The only true Sci Fi movie according to me is ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’. I liked the visual imagery in ‘The Fifth Element’ as well, but the whole thing about ‘love’ being the fifth element and the key etc was too clichéd.

And now I go back on the net to see whether I can find a poster version of this cover!