tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33400942207692872722024-02-18T18:25:11.962-08:00Dreams,Myths and Stories.....Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-70691610052327301662019-03-19T11:07:00.001-07:002019-04-18T12:12:41.388-07:00Dance of the Wounded<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In this city,<br />
the role of senses<br />
are shifting every moment.<br />
The body doesn't irk<br />
but soul irks forlornly<br />
<br />
The clogged arteries of this city enclose<br />
the labyrinths of sanity,<br />
Inhumane preferences of<br />
ancient agonies,<br />
Hasty ghettos of<br />
vultures and corpses,<br />
Shadows for days<br />
empathy for the nights...<br />
<br />
Here,<br />
the cold prayers<br />
from the lips of darkness<br />
travel to the roots of lunacy<br />
The congregation of sellouts lives<br />
with dripping absurdity,<br />
Like the bona-fide versions of<br />
to-be and not-to-be<br />
<br />
The first scream joins<br />
the screams of termination<br />
& naked souls take birth<br />
with the disguise of absurdity<br />
In the impulse of dismay<br />
the body gets nude and<br />
the soul dresses up<br />
<br />
In the mad crowd,<br />
you can find me<br />
in young men with knives in their hands,<br />
in the courtesans with garlands of flower<br />
and in priests dangling their cocks to the apocalypse<br />
And I exist<br />
in carcasses of living misery<br />
Swinging my breaths<br />
on the pendulum of hunger<br />
Planning & plotting of murders<br />
of all including myself<br />
<br />
In some corner of my mind,<br />
some weary eyes offer a calling.<br />
Saying,<br />
Expunge these references<br />
Erase this destiny<br />
Listen to the deafening roar of silence<br />
Let your crystal fists should sprout<br />
The seed of empathy<br />
Let the doors open for inner senses<br />
Let everything gets consumed by the chaos<br />
including me<br />
<br />
Then on the horse of<br />
white solitude of peace<br />
I will break free from my stubble<br />
I will scatter the beautiful scent<br />
of my delirious anguish<br />
The horizons of light will transpire<br />
My Rakhs-e-Bismil</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-19437980115447355282019-03-19T11:06:00.000-07:002019-03-19T11:06:35.308-07:00Scribblings for Alice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My sunset stranger,<br />
This might be a devil's circus!<br />
A butterfly in your brain &<br />
a night without a purpose.<br />
<br />
You are awakened for daydreaming<br />
Deep in the midnight<br />
when a hungry eagle is encircling you<br />
<br />
Ahoy Sailor!<br />
You're next!<br />
To dream, then die<br />
and dream again..<br />
<br />
Get your quota of laughs<br />
from the shop around the corner<br />
wave around the madman inside you<br />
<br />
A madman inside you<br />
doubting her sobriety<br />
correcting propriety<br />
dissing at society<br />
and clinching her feasts<br />
for a penniful of chastity....<br />
<br />
So senora,<br />
while on a deathbed<br />
don't look sideways<br />
You have white lilies on your left<br />
& on your right<br />
you have emptiness!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-62799882811993320232018-11-27T12:14:00.001-08:002018-11-27T12:18:02.229-08:00Sufism: From 'Forty Rules of Love' to Remastered 'Imagine'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAn5I5UjsBuA6rQvPryEu1zKqK1NMjUDFPD9uR0n4olncLWdcxDrQ1tsi7L34agD8ulFBPFcb3d5Zs4XU_dEZFwWprzejD0WetLU2-2uoNpbg27ReAVvII6aeNuVrlOJrnqhlTQqhtMY/s1600/IMG_02931-2448x1836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAn5I5UjsBuA6rQvPryEu1zKqK1NMjUDFPD9uR0n4olncLWdcxDrQ1tsi7L34agD8ulFBPFcb3d5Zs4XU_dEZFwWprzejD0WetLU2-2uoNpbg27ReAVvII6aeNuVrlOJrnqhlTQqhtMY/s320/IMG_02931-2448x1836.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I usually like getting things discovered by myself. Be it a piece of music, a book, an awe-inspiring portrayal of art in any form. There is something that is completely pure and new in everything.<br />
<br />
Being discovered things from a child's perspective!<br />
<br />
That's what I am talking about. But, there is something which I didn't discover by myself and was recommended by a friend that has compelled me to do something which I have almost stopped for months. 'Forty Rules of Love' has compelled to write and embrace the convoluted musings. So here is what I gathered,<br />
<br />
Forty Rules of Love is a beautiful journey of two parallel characters separated by centuries of time. Rumi blooms from an influence royal persona to insignia of mystified universal spiritualism. The shackled housewife Ella breaks free to love again. The central piece of both parallel narratives is 'Universal Spiritualism,' the bedrock of which is Love! Love is a divine force that can bind people, cultures, and destinies together. It is where all the music attunes to one divine symphony to realize the oneness.<br />
<br />
The source of the idea of a 'Sufi' lies in Love, who is devoid of fear, dominance, and hatred. In the eyes of Shams E Tabriz, anyone whose heart is kindled with pure Love can become one with God. The absolution of characters in the novel emanates out of the precincts of religion. Thus Hassan the Beggar, Desert Rose (A prostitute), Suleiman the Dunkard can become one by annihilating their nafs (Ego).<br />
<br />
The following rule of Shams explains it well,<br />
<br />
<i>“When a true lover of God goes into a tavern, the tavern becomes his chamber of prayer, but when a winebibber goes into the same chamber, it becomes his tavern. In everything we do, it is our hearts that make the difference, not our outer appearances”.'</i><br />
<br />
<b>Is Sufism the eternal answer to our eternal suffering?</b><br />
<br />
The novel depicts two stories: one in the 13th century and the 2nd from the 21st century. All the characters seem like standing on a bank of a gushing river called 'Time' bringing the articulations of human suffering to every being in their period. Maybe the Facade of intricacies can be different, but roots are the same. During the turbulent times in the 13th century, the political and cultural stir was unprecedented. It enlightened the path of a beautiful friendship and spiritual love between Shams and Rumi. The path if simple,<br />
<br />
<i>" I am not of the East, nor of the West…</i><br />
<i>My place is placeless, a trace of the traceless."</i><br />
<br />
The inner journey of Love is the path to become a Sufi. The journey purges the central essence of the seeker of all filth inside him/her. The nafs corrupt the soul and make one blind to the path to God. People search god in temples, churches, and mosques and their mandatory prayers.<br />
<br />
Shams says,<br />
<br />
<i>"Every man is an open book, every one of us a walking Qur’an. The quest for God is ingrained in the hearts of all, be it a prostitute or a saint. Love exists within each of us from the moment we are born and waits to be discovered from then on. That is what one of the forty rules is all about: The whole universe is contained within a single human being—you. "</i><br />
<br />
<i>“Nothing should stand between yourself and God. Not imams, priests, rabbis, or any other custodians of moral or religious leadership. Not spiritual masters, not even your faith.”</i><br />
<br />
Being the true mentor to Rumi, Shams helped him to attain realization and fill his empty cup with love.<br />
<br />
Sufism believes in the unitary nature of the universe. Universe or nature as the totality of everything. It is identical with divinity. This philosophy might be the root for what we call today 'The Pantheism'!<br />
<br />
<b>Pantheism (Wahdat al Wujud = Unity of the existence</b><br />
<br />
Pantheism believes the world being in God and God being in the world. Theist religions consider that God is a separate entity from the material world, where the pantheists believe that 'We all together is the God!'<br />
<br />
Pantheism incorporates two different notions<br />
<br />
Monism: All is One. Being one with the divinity is Monism. The journey of a Sufi is not different. A Sufi mystic desires to plunge into the ocean of infinite oneness and to obliterate the self in mystical union with God<br />
<br />
Determinism: All is Now. This idea denotes that the divinity is devoid of time. It is a moment when the time is a pure illusion and past, present and future are mere fictional ideas. Renowned Pantheist Albert Einstein also have stated the illusionary existence of the past, present, future in a letter to his friend’s family.<br />
<br />
Shams says,<br />
<br />
<i>“The past is an interpretation. The future is an illusion. The world does not move through times as if it were a straight line, proceeding from past to the future. If you want to experience eternal illumination, put the past and future out of your mind and remain within the present moment.”</i><br />
<br />
<b>Religion & Mysticism</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Every religion has their segment of mysticism and notions to spirituality. Hinduism emphasizes “Know Thyself,” but Sufism emphasizes on “Knowing Thy God.” But is that what religions preach today?<br />
<br />
"This is not what is written in our religion." I hear that sentence from my friends from different religions when they defend the bigotry in the name of their religion. Does this answer suffice the question? No, it does not. In my opinion, what is being practiced today in the name of any specific religion must be scrutinized on their current account? For a moment, let's consider that the beginning is pure but as the power and dominance rose through the scriptures, we are dealing with a whole new version of what was preached centuries ago.<br />
<br />
One can't turn away from the current version of religions that is the root of all the political, cultural and social dogmas. Divides created by religion have made this world a plight where clashes and conflicts replace the harmony, humanity, and brotherhood.<br />
<br />
To sum up the thought, this poem by Rumi fits aptly,<br />
<br />
<b><i>ALL RELIGIONS ARE ONE </i></b><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>In the adorations and benedictions of righteous men</i><br />
<i>The praises of all the prophets are kneaded together.</i><br />
<i>All their praises are mingled into one stream,</i><br />
<i>All the vessels are emptied into one ewer.</i><br />
<i>Because He that is praised is, in fact, only One.</i><br />
<i>In this respect, all religions are only one religion.</i><br />
<i>Because all praises are directed towards God’s Light,</i><br />
<i>These various forms and figures are borrowed from it.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
The essence of this novel tells whats utterly wrong in our world. How we have never learned from the simplest forms of teachings on love. Maybe this looks like romanticism each has during their 20s. But maybe the romantic and dreamy people are keeping it all sane and alive for all of us. In the end, two important personalities of my century must be mentioned.<br />
<br />
When Asked in an interview,<br />
<br />
What is the most important quality that a revolutionary to possess?<br />
<br />
Che: Love! Love for humanity. Justice and truth.<br />
<br />
And the 2nd guy is John Lennon Singing his greatest musical gift to the world 'Imagine'<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/b7MMPQJMw20/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/b7MMPQJMw20?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-17901198806605590022018-06-26T04:38:00.001-07:002018-06-26T04:38:21.277-07:00The Fall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The men with flowers<br />
The men with knives<br />
The men with law<br />
The men with ideas<br />
The men with follies<br />
The men of silence<br />
The crowds of unnamed<br />
Confess from their deep caskets<br />
for a Purge that they dreamt<br />
for the child-bearing women<br />
through the city's clogged arteries<br />
for the blossoming madness<br />
with a trembling rhyme<br />
<br />
The lubricated lop of sins<br />
or the embroidered birth canal<br />
from where The Fallen Angels,<br />
are falling through, singing the songs of life.<br />
Just like 'The Alice' fell through a rabbit hole.</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-81481986933715991362017-06-27T06:08:00.002-07:002017-06-27T06:10:02.171-07:00Loops and Lubricants 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One fine day I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of a Deja-vu. Imagine the situation! I mean you are half-asleep and trying to understand a deja-vu? That surely was not an ideal choice to get trapped on the bridge between your own conscience and subconscious self. So, when I was half awake and subtly destroying my serene sleep, somebody from outside called my name. I thought I am still dreaming but, still, I looked outside with bleak eyes, and I saw a blackbird trying to have a conversation with me. (Now don't ask me how was I able to saw a blackbird in the darkness!)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I asked, 'Are you talking to me?' It simply nodded with a broad smile and said, I am a messenger of the mother Mnemosyne, and I am here to deliver a message. 'Mother, who?' I blurted out while losing a quarter of my sleep there. 'Mother Mnemosyne! Just Google it, man.' its blunt reply was the definition of bluntness. ''Ok'' I said, "What's the message?" It said, "WAKE UP."</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> And one fine day I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of a Deja-vu.......</span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-902d031f-e9a9-549f-5ae3-5665397d342f"><br /></span></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-38260881078973262872016-10-03T08:15:00.001-07:002016-10-03T08:20:53.177-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Sometimes,</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I feel, </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">to have a feeling,</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">like </span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Just now in this very moment</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />I have already felt everything<br />that I am ever going to feel<br />in my ending days.</span></span></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-17438676908531274072016-09-29T02:17:00.000-07:002017-06-24T23:54:03.400-07:00Dead Strangers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It rained that day! I don't recollect the exact thought came to my mind while I was lying on a random bed in a random flat in Sukseria building. All I can remember is that it rained that day!! It's weird to remember a day just because of the usual rain and no such great memory attached to it. But the picture of a dark creamy-rusty wall and rectangular shape of the drizzling rain in the door frame of that wall. The building looked pretty much bored like her age. But lying there wasn't boring. After all, I am lying to myself after I dunno but many months. I could see a wall peeling that was about to fall on my face anytime.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-35442907897003979292016-07-22T05:50:00.000-07:002016-09-29T02:18:40.336-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I know a man who is out there. Who was always there since the beginning. He looks like me, dresses like me, talks like me, even he thinks like me, but he who pours his prayers into oblivion, sitting on a mountain. A mountain made up of the ashes of TIME. Ashes of this very minute and of all those things which have lost their fraction of existence during this very minute. He is always writing all that. Maybe a never ending poem or a never ending prayer? He is randomly touching all the empty names of his reality one by one.<br />
But I wish he should die & lose his immortality just like that. So, his death would become the entire essence of his poetry!</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-82703374416856392202015-09-07T12:43:00.000-07:002016-09-29T02:23:07.507-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Nicolai: See, my girl sent me letters. She says that she still loves me. I told her in my last letter that I will fight these Nazis. I will kill as many as I can. I will make my mother Russia proud. Then I will return to her with medals on my chests.<br />
Soldier: Haha.<br />
Nicolai: What’s so funny brother?<br />
Soldier: How naïve!<br />
Nicolai: Naïve! I have a gun in my hand. Still, I look naïve? It's not my gun. Stalin gave me this. Some unknown comrade in Tula may have made it avenge his young boy who might have died in Ukraine fighting Nazis. We eat the food on the war front; the food is grown on our farms where our comrades fell in war. Where our children wept. We are fighting for the glory of our revolution and the glory of our great supreme leader Stalin!!<br />
We are fighting for the equality and justice for our future generations. For eternal victory and peace for proletariats.<br />
Soldier: Eternal victory? I don’t know anything about this. All I know that I was a worker in a metal factory in Moscow. They said he looks fine. He will survive for a month more, and I am here with Stalin’s gun.<br />
It's they or us. Maybe they will die, and you and I live. Maybe they and I live, and you die. Maybe we all die.Finally, all that Stalin will do is, he will shake hands. Either with shame or madness with his eternal victory. We will go back to those places where we came from. Your girl won’t be the same, and I might not survive working in the factory for another month.<br />
Nicolai: Maybe. But It's not just about us. It's about our motherland.<br />
Soldier: Do you think it all survive?<br />
All you ever knew,<br />
You memories<br />
Love<br />
Your Silent Gods<br />
Heaven -Hell<br />
Family<br />
Loved ones<br />
Relatives<br />
Strangers & their kisses<br />
People<br />
Events and memories of all this<br />
Feelings<br />
Planned moments<br />
Unsaid words<br />
Unknown, unfinished feelings<br />
Your equality and justice<br />
Bourgeoisie & Proletariats<br />
Marx, Lenin, Stalin<br />
The sense of rage<br />
Dead Nazis<br />
The blood of them on your dying feet<br />
All will disappear<br />
Poof!!!<br />
Bang!!!<br />
Just one sudden bullet inside you<br />
Just like the wind blows inside your body mercilessly.<br />
And it won’t matter<br />
to matter anything, anymore.<br />
You will be you for a brief moment<br />
With Ecstasy,<br />
While gasping for last breath with a bullet in your neck.<br />
You will breathe just to breathe and nothing for your glory!!<br />
Nicolai: Oh! What could be more horrible than this emptiness, at all?<br />
Soldier: Why, Life itself!!</div>
</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-75124162887691035092015-08-03T12:59:00.001-07:002017-06-24T23:56:00.217-07:00Dreams on rent<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr">
My city mocks me</div>
<div dir="ltr">
With the senselessness</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Of ideas</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Through which I am gonna flow through. The infinite currents,</div>
<div dir="ltr">
People, things, their life, my life... </div>
<div dir="ltr">
The manner of collision of thousand things into one</div>
<div dir="ltr">
And one collision to scatter into thousands.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I am the guy</div>
<div dir="ltr">
I jump over the wet pond</div>
<div dir="ltr">
To call me the Sinbad</div>
<div dir="ltr">
I am the guy who</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Catch the 9.24 daily.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I am a chaiwallah</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Who flows in the morning through the cities clogged arteries</div>
<div dir="ltr">
A back office ITwallah </div>
<div dir="ltr">
Coding my rented dream</div>
</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-31740736785690353702015-07-02T04:44:00.001-07:002015-07-02T04:44:44.043-07:00A Murder Ballad<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Come<br />
Come hear thee sects of sane<br />
cut out my tongue<br />
Though there is nothing to say.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-64062306786519336492015-07-01T12:20:00.002-07:002017-06-25T00:00:06.893-07:00Legion 2.0<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We laugh when machines tell us to laugh.<br />
We become sad when machines say so.<br />
We move our legs & go somewhere<br />
where?<br />
We are not sure or maybe<br />
we're not allowed to be sure.<br />
<br />
Our rationality altogether<br />
may have been stored somewhere<br />
in some random server<br />
in a secret basement.<br />
<br />
We choose,<br />
we reject,<br />
we hate,<br />
we love when machines order so...<br />
<br />
We are even told that,<br />
Our soul! Our great amorphous soul,<br />
with an unending eternal kindness,<br />
is a mere database with coding.<br />
<br />
We are the collective altar egos,<br />
made up of cogs and wheels.<br />
<br />
We are the decaying paradoxes.<br />
<br />
We are products of our products.</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-29731182477473174372014-06-13T01:36:00.003-07:002017-06-25T00:01:46.460-07:00Madbeth : Mad as a march hare<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I don't remember the actual reason for which I have booked ticket's for Madbeth. Never been to Physical theater act before, Haven't had a clue either! Maybe I went to the show just cause, Rupesh invited me. But now I am happy he did that.<br />
Madbeth is a mental mini orchestra of strangers which starts with an actor and audience and ends up without an audience at all!!! All credit goes to Rupesh. From the moment one, Madbeth took command of the theater and extended his realm by making the audience to express to every death and every spit he could spare. He dances, he sings, he fights, and he kills, saying it's all about death after all! But I particularly liked his chair scene. I think it symbolizes the extent of the power which consumes macbeth, making him not to leave it at any cost given. It absorbs him, cripples him, but still, he allows himself to dance like a cripple!! Another thing I liked a lot is, how he responds to every sneeze, out of time suppressed giggle and comments by individual's in the audience and modify his act accordingly.<br />
But there is so much than that. So many small details that one could only experience by watching it live. People, keep an eye on him, 'how he dances with the death in an erratic ballet' #Mcdeath #Mcburger #Mcalootikki</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-21791341057537827872014-06-13T01:31:00.001-07:002017-06-25T00:04:20.998-07:00डोह- A film by Akshay Indikar (Short Review)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I woke up.<br />
I shat.<br />
I had tea,<br />
while I smoked.<br />
But did I exist?<br />
Somewhat this kind of similar question was slammed on my face while watching 'DOH.' It's really very satisfying that somebody is asking this question and underlining it with making a film. It forces to ask oneself that, can you able to listen to your subtle flute tunes out of your 'hard techno trance'kinda edgy life? The film relates & it pokes viewer's idea of conscientiousness about his/her existence.<br />
This whole film is about the linear story of the genuine naivety of perplexed protagonist's first ever intimate physical love experience. This naivety of hers travels erratically with many breaks due to daily life humdrum. She has been treated like a partner in crime, so forcefully hidden in the bathroom and then thrown out, but eventually, she finds her 'TRUE LOVE' in the edited version of intimate fantasies in her bathroom and then in a phone call!!!! I found this sad and sarcastic but very real.<br />
Well, the film becomes a multi-angular coherent art when considered with the angle of feminism. The female view goes with the fragile deconstruction of her intimate experience (beginning scene and second bathroom scene), while male view goes with the immense dominant ignorance, is wondersome. The correspondence of patriarchy ow whatever, the male view is also accepted by her!! (I remembered Q's 'love in India') Another round of applause for our society which keeps and will keep parading in circles.<br />
I loved the subject of the film. Film's cinematography and sound designing are interestingly good, so does the acting. (especially the first bathroom mirror scene.)<br />
<br />
My wishes and good luck for upcoming project</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-46008271662468908952014-06-05T13:18:00.001-07:002014-06-13T01:21:42.672-07:00लूप्स आणि ल्युब्रिकन्टस<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
निरपराध माणसं मारणार्यांनी,<br />
त्याला खुलं समर्थन करणार्यांनी,<br />
केवळ मनातल्या मनात खुष होणार्यांनी,<br />
चुकीचं वाटूनही सुप्त आनंद झालेल्यांनी<br />
<br />
निरपराध माणसं मारावीत.<br />
त्याला खुलं समर्थन करावं.<br />
मनातल्या मनात खूष व्हावं.<br />
चुकीचं वाटलं तरी सुप्त आनंद घ्यावा.<br />
<br />
तरीही कमी पडलंच तर, (नक्कीच पडेल)<br />
मैथुनाचा आनंद घ्यायचाच असेल तर,<br />
शिवाजी पार्कसारखं काहीतरी बूक करा.<br />
जमा सगळ्यांनी एकत्र.<br />
करा आपली गटारं मोकळी.<br />
हातही मोकळे करा.<br />
काढा आपली लिंगं बाहेर<br />
एकमेकांची वेश्या होऊन<br />
एकमेकांची साफ चिघळवून टाका<br />
<br />
आपापली हिन-दीन 'संस़्कृती'<br />
आपापसात धरुन खेचा.<br />
दातांनी, नखांनी ओरबाडा.<br />
कपडे फाडून यथेच्छ पिळा.<br />
उधळा.<br />
पालथी पाडा.<br />
सगळे सोपस्कार करा.<br />
<br />
मग<br />
सनातन संस्कृतींच्या अनौरस पिढ्यांनो,<br />
मग उरली सुरली भेगाळलेली<br />
हीच संस्कृती स्वतःला लागू करा.<br />
बनवा नवी जातीव्यवस्था<br />
होउ दे निमिषार्धात<br />
पुन्हा शतकांनुशतकांची प्रक्रिया<br />
स्तोत्रं,धर्म,तलवारी, बंडखोरीच्या<br />
न जाणो कितीतरी लक्ष योनींतुन<br />
जाउदेत तुमची लक्तरं.<br />
<br />
जेव्हा शेवटाला तुम्हालाच<br />
प्रत्येक शतकांत<br />
प्रत्येक कोपर्यांत<br />
जिथेतिथे स्वतःच सोडलेल्या विष्ठेचे संदर्भ लागतील,<br />
तेव्हा कदाचित तुम्हाला<br />
होतील आत्मिक साक्षात्कार!!<br />
आपला सगळ्यांचा जन्म इथुन तिथुन नव्हे<br />
तर प्रत्यक्ष ब्रम्हाच्या विष्ठेतुन झाल्याचे,<br />
माणसाच्या दुरवर अथांग पसरलेल्या<br />
भुकेच्या वाळवंटाचे,<br />
त्याच्या तिळतिळ तुटणार्या आतड्याचे,<br />
मुक्त उमलणार्या फुलणार्या जीवांच्या सुक्ताचे,<br />
प्रेमाच्या प्रबळ आंतरीक उर्मीचे.<br />
<br />
तेव्हाच तुमच्या बांधलेल्या जगातुन<br />
मुक्त माणसांचे तांडे बाहेर पडतील<br />
माणसांच्या दिशेने.</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-69091707327788698762014-05-15T11:37:00.001-07:002014-05-15T11:37:25.534-07:00भारताचे आधुनिक अगस्ती<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">२००२
सालात कावेरी-गोदावरीच्या खोर्यात डि-६ या ब्लॉकमध्ये रिलायन्सला भारतातले
सगळ्यात मोठे गॅसचे साठे सापडले. त्यातून त्यांना त्या साठ्यांचं उत्खनन
आणि वितरण करण्याचं काम भारत सरकारकरुन सोपवण्यात आलं. भारतातली खनिज
संपत्ती ही भारतीय जनतेच्या मालकीची आहे, त्यामुळे त्याचा शोध आणि निर्माण
यावर लोकनियुक्त भारत सरकारचं नियंत्रण असतं. त्यासाठी सरकार खाजगी
कंपन्यांशी Production Sharing Contract(PSC) असा <span class="text_exposed_show">करार
धडवून आणते. या करारामध्ये सापडलेल्या खनिज साठ्यांचा पुढील शोध, उत्खनन
आणि वापरासाठी उत्पादन या सर्व प्रक्रियांमध्ये सरकार आणि ती ठराविक खाजगी
कंपनी यांची भुमिका आणि जबाबदार्या नमूद केलेल्या असतात.<br /> <br />
जेव्हा रिलायन्स कंपनी फुटली तेव्हा भारताच्या खनिजसंपत्तीचे वाटे कसे
करायचे आणि किती दर आकारायचा यावरुन त्यांच्यात दुमत निर्माण झाले तेव्हा
तत्कालिन उर्जामंत्री विरप्पा मोईली यांनी नॅचरल गॅस ही अंबानी बंधूची
खाजगी संपत्ती नसून ती भारताची संपत्ती आहे, असा मुद्दा उपस्थित केला.
तेव्हा त्यावर अंबानी बंधूनी सरकारला $2.34 per mmBtu हा अंतिम आकडा कळवला.
त्या काळात ओएनजीसी याच्या जवळ जवळ अर्ध्या किंमतीत सरकारला गॅस पुरवठा
करीत होती. मग अंबानी बंधूनी हा $2.34 per mmBtu चा मॅजिकल आकडा कुठुन पैदा
केला?<br /> <br /> हा आकडा आला होता जून २००४च्या वेळी झालेल्या NTPC आणि
रिलायन्सच्या करारातुन. या करारात NTPC च्या गुजरातमधील दोन औष्णिक
केंद्रांना याच दराने गॅस पुरवण्याचा वायदा केला होता. तर जेव्हा हा आकडा
रिलायन्सने भारत सरकारपुढे ठेवला तेव्हा किंमत जास्त असल्याने त्यावर
साहजिकच नकार मिळाला. तेव्हा रिलायन्सने आमची मिंमत मान्य करा नाहीतर गॅस
देणार नाही असा सरळ सरळ पवित्रा घेतला. यानंतर घोटाळ्यांचे सत्र सुरु झाले.
NTPC ने न्यायालय गाठले. कोर्टात केस सुरु असतानाच, २००७ साली सरकारने हे
प्रकरण सोडवण्यासाठी Empowered Group of Ministers (EGoM) च्या हातात
दिले. त्यानंतर झालेला कळस म्हणजे त्यांनी $4.2 per mmBtu हा भरघोस नफा
देणारा आकडा मुक्रर केला. $4.2 per mmBtu!!!! हे सगळं सुरु होतं तेव्हा
गॅसचं एकही युनिट उत्पादित झालं नव्हतं. म्हणजे बाजारातली तुरी सोडाच पण
तुरी शेतात पेरल्या पेरल्या भट भटणीला मारी असा प्रकार सुरु होता.<br /> <br />
२००७ मध्येच यावर कॅगचा रिपोर्ट तयार होत होता पण तो बाहेर यायला
२०११ उजाडलं आणि हे भांडवलशाही नंदनवन जनतेच्या डोळ्यांना खुलं झालं. मंजूर
केलेल्या प्रभागाच्या २५% जास्त प्रभाग खनिजशोधाच्या नावाखाली बळकावला
गेला. पुरेशा विहिरी न खोदता सरकारची दिशाभूल करणं, ओएनजीसीच्या प्रभागात
चोरी करणं अस्ले प्रकार घडले होते. यावर शिक्षा न देता सरकारनं बळकावलेले
भूभाग त्यांच्याच नावावर करुन टाकले.<br /> <br /> यावर कडी म्हणून की काय
तर आरबीआयचे माजी गव्हर्नर सी रंगराजन यांनी जगात पहिल्यांदाच एका नवीन
फॉर्म्युल्याचा शोध लावला तो म्हणजे गॅसच्या किंमती या जागतिक बाजारातल्या
किंमतीवर निर्धारित करणे. म्हणजे गॅस भारताचा पण तो आयात केल्यासारखा समजून
चारपट पैसे भरायचे. हे पैसे कुणाच्या खिशात, तर अर्थातच रिलायन्सच्या.<br /> <br />
तर लोकहो हे सगळं वाचून फसवलं गेल्याची भावना मनात आलीच असेल. राग
वगैरे आला असेल. आला असेल तर तो आता दुप्पट करुन घ्या. कारण आता पुन्हा
निवडणुकीनंतर लगेच रिलायन्सने गॅसच्या किंमती केल्या आहेत $8.3 per
mmBtu!!!! म्हणजे दोन वरुन चार आणि चारवरुन आठ टक्के असा सरळ सरळ हिशेब आहे
यांचा तेही अवघ्या ८ वर्षांच्या काळात. या नव्या किमती लागू करण्याचं
धमकीवजा पत्र त्यांनी १ एप्रिललाच सरकारला धाडलंय. आचारसंहितेमुळे त्यांना
सध्या थांबणं भाग पडलंय. पण गेल्या एक महिन्यात झालेलं नुकसान वसूल करुच
असा निर्वाणीचा इशाराही त्यांनी दिला आहे. आता मोदीसरकार आलंच तर तए हा
तिढा कसा सोडवतात ते पहायला हवं. मोदींचा एकुण अभिनिवेश पहाता ते
प्रत्यक्षात येईल असं काही वाटत नाही पण 'आसमानसे कुछ तो टपके' असं म्हणत
सदा नुसता आ वासून बसलेल्या माणसाच्या तोंडात खरोखरी विकासाचा लाडू पडावा
हीच अपेक्षा. शेवटी सभा,निवडणुका आणि खातेवाटप यालाच राजकारण म्हणतात ही
चुकीची धारणा बाजूला ठेवा. राजकारण तर आता सुरू होईल. त्यावर आपली बेरकी
नजर राहू द्या. तिथपर्यंत काय? तर लाडू वळा!!!</span></span></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-64996637934876417922014-04-22T15:28:00.002-07:002017-06-25T00:10:04.714-07:00A Pirate Parody<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
fifteen men on a dead man's chest<br />
yo ho ho and tip of a gun<br />
skin him out, and they'll be blessed<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
Amid good men, there's cap'n Gross<br />
as he turns ship with a bulbous nose<br />
cross yor heart and never go close<br />
lad's settle yor debt with Cap'n Gross<br />
or get marooned yor arse & say adiós<br />
as they say dead men tale no tales<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
Fifteen men will dance for the dead<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
poke his eyes & be damned with a red<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
I'm sure he raped my long-lost wife (1st pirate)<br />
I know he killed me in me dreams last night (2nd pirate)<br />
he sung those songs which i neverrrr liked (3rd pirate)<br />
he forgot to bow over our cap's thong<br />
he gave him an eye and proved him wrong<br />
now we'll skin him out for all night long<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
fifteen men will drink his blood<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
their throats will cheer forever holy flood<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
carve his eyes and play lier's dice<br />
sharpen knives and slice him twice<br />
an ounce of flesh to be precise<br />
his head on a pike & sing Nazi rhyme<br />
gutt him out and take every dime<br />
when all dig grave there's ain't any crime<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
fifteen men will dance on the grave<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
they'll be called as sons of a brave<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
amid fifteen men there's boy with a frown<br />
like our dead man, his color was brown<br />
Aye! Aye! Lets all soon gun him down<br />
forget our code and let him hang<br />
wipe those songs, he ever sang<br />
fare him well when he walks the plank<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun<br />
fourteen men on a dead man's chest<br />
yo ho ho and tip of a gun<br />
skin him out, and they'll be blessed<br />
Yo ho ho and a tip of a gun.<br />
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-7174582049317063712013-10-22T12:18:00.000-07:002017-06-25T00:12:18.992-07:00All is well till it isn't<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Die Die Die<br />
Die Norma Jean Die<br />
Try a nook<br />
Try a razor<br />
Try some fire<br />
or a river<br />
Die on a war front<br />
like a young soldier<br />
or on the streets of Paris<br />
like a leprous whore<br />
<br />
fall to an ottoman blade<br />
in a crusade for Jerusalem<br />
gasping your hollow ecstasy,<br />
or die as a stranger to your mother<br />
on her dried up Sudanese breasts<br />
or<br />
Die in some food eating competition<br />
while eating yourself<br />
Die in Syria<br />
they have just found some oil there<br />
drink it and light yourself<br />
become Ghazi<br />
<br />
eventually<br />
just die in some gutter of insanity<br />
with juiced up absurdia<br />
in your hipster veins<br />
We do not care.<br />
You are just a story<br />
to be told during puberty<br />
& not to be followed.<br />
you die,<br />
Die again.<br />
For thousand times<br />
so we can embrace<br />
your essence<br />
with our hands<br />
on the frenzied cocks of<br />
our empty corpses<br />
& our bankrupt suffering<br />
towards sufferings<br />
of all.<br />
<br />
we have sane libraries<br />
where,<br />
everything stinks<br />
rational & irrational<br />
where,<br />
every moment is written &<br />
Whatever written is everything.<br />
I am an orphan of my generation.<br />
Sitting here<br />
on a window of a civilization of my time<br />
with a melancholy smile.<br />
<br />
Norma,<br />
Wherever they have deported Alice<br />
take me there.<br />
Where chaos is ecstasy<br />
Take me there.<br />
Till then,<br />
I sleep here peacefully<br />
thinking peace.</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-80021873463412798682013-10-18T12:22:00.003-07:002017-06-25T00:13:09.210-07:00Just a Poem<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On a quiet evening,<br />
this city folded<br />
into usual mosaic moments<br />
looped in solitude<br />
<br />
streets were alive<br />
With people's hunger.<br />
Hungry people were<br />
going home<br />
or looking for one,<br />
to make love or<br />
to be loved.<br />
<br />
industries were<br />
sleeping dead for a while<br />
like a tired prostitute<br />
after eating iron and<br />
shitting this century<br />
<br />
on such an evening,<br />
I walked along<br />
on its shore<br />
from one streetlight<br />
to another<br />
breathing,<br />
aching,<br />
rotting,<br />
diseased<br />
& making love<br />
with her.<br />
<br />
We had seeds.<br />
Seeds of ideas<br />
to answer<br />
every question<br />
with another question.<br />
<br />
we had our poems<br />
to bring anarchy<br />
into these fossilized<br />
labyrinths of sanity<br />
<br />
we had<br />
our unquestionable love<br />
for the humanity<br />
& peace.<br />
<br />
I said,<br />
'darling,<br />
lets drink & laugh,<br />
let's make love<br />
For one last time.<br />
Then let's hold hands<br />
and walk where<br />
this city burns.'<br />
<br />
and<br />
without a word,<br />
she just smiled<br />
same as yesterday.</div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-8001094966720633932013-08-29T13:01:00.002-07:002017-06-25T00:14:12.706-07:00Lunatic asylum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Absurd and destructive edifices in our religion are doing nothing less but creating more and more illusion about our reality. Eventually, it's very much obvious that flexibility of a thought dies when it is calcified in belief. In the case of religion, the emotions are involved too, people commit crimes on themselves and other, under the epithet of 'Dil Ki Soch'! If you are alone in the country of such a big and irrational population, you don't exist. They drag you away, beat you, remove your eyes, ears, nose, lungs, kidneys, liver and all. They just let you keep your brain with you; your thoughts are not tasty, who is going to eat that?? So, eventually, you die in this shit hole with your books and pen, thinking and rearranging some new metaphors for poetry, for future.<br />
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-8005624850102887262013-08-26T13:40:00.000-07:002013-10-14T09:21:01.188-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am so much confused about being subtly bummed by the endless loop of persistent 'sadness' and its relevance to the futility of reoccurring dreams. In short, when a person's mind is pretty much fucked up, he/she doesn't need much effort to spawn some existential crap. </div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-89090746081850952142013-08-25T16:44:00.000-07:002017-06-25T00:21:00.676-07:00Tasher desh : fantasy of a sexual liberation <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I completely overdosed when I walked out of the theater after watching 'Q's movie 'Tasher Desh' (The land of cards) It's originally a short story written by Rabindranath Tagore. It is said to be a children's musical but surprisingly encompassing a dark satirical drama of our political and social institutionalization and its liberation. Having this core idea for his adaptation, 'Q' has brilliantly harbored his fantasy version of liberation. The pretentious idea of a story too, itself creates a grand base for its visual adaptation.</span></span> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the beginning, there is a madcap poet/storyteller who is almost fanatically obsessed with his own bizarre perplexing subconscious construction of a story called 'Tasher Desh.' He travels in his reality which is parallel to his hypnotic structure of conundrum in a nonlinear and dual narrative manner. The black and white cinematographic frames have been used to depict the reality of a storyteller with his journey to and through the ruins of his story. These frames create an absorbing ooze, an intensive drug like effect. In his story, the character of PRINCE is stuck into a boring, monotonous existence. The first scene of a continuous long shot from various angles shows him playing a game of table-tennis with his friend which is a metaphor for his monotonous life and eventual boredom. As Prince and his friend seek to escape their reality and to explore, they eventually end up on a strange island, the 'Island of the cards.' In the movie, the whole first half is a slow infusion of psychedelia which bursts into some erratic blow of graphic novel prototype imagery when the cards have captured the price and his friend in Tasher Desh.<br />
The land of cards is a pure dystopian, anti-Freudian, totalitarian and fascist society of cards which all are soldiers. Cards maintain a certain hierarchy in the land. Everyone wears a uniform and paint their faces white. They all are obsessed with maintaining peace, discipline, and order of this land by discarding reason and any human touch.(very much similar Plato's idea of three stage hierarchy in aristocracy or Varna system in Hinduism) This fascist dystopia is based on the cards rigid sense of order and discipline. All they know is to follow the given order in the given way, where they exist to operate themselves as mere gears and parts of a giant machine of a totalitarian state. They do not engulf any doubt or a personal desire at all.( If we stretch our imagination a little, then we can see the direction of our world going into with the growing state of ignorance, irrationality, and regimentation of people.)<br />
So further in the story, after being caught by cards, the prince and his friend are questioned by the king of cards, prince states his business here as a messenger, who is on the island to bring the message of 'TROUBLE'! He introduces laughter and sings songs of disorder into the hearts of queens. This small seed of an idea eventually grows into a tree and brings chaos and disruption of the original political order of cards. (This particular course of the story made me remember Dostoevsky's 'The dream of a ridiculous man' where the protagonist of a story travels to Utopia and introduces a single lie which eventually breaks down the Utopian society and brings chaos.)<br />
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The only difference is 'Q's idea of liberation of Tasher Desh is initiated by introducing sex, lust & love. He has used a manifold surreal imagery to build an idea of sexual liberation with a libidinous climax which ends with a post-modern styled Anarchist Anthem, 'Bnadh Bhege Dao'. 'Q' has told before in his interviews that he is attempting to deconstruct Tagore, I think in which he has been quite successful. The imagery he put as a director is very much surreal, hallucinating and has some abstracts of the graphic novel like a prototype. In the original play by Tagore, there is no character of a ‘storyteller,' whereas in his adaptation, ‘Q’ creates a whole other parallel mid layer of reality by introducing an obsessed storyteller. In my opinion, the character of the storyteller depicts the shadow of director’s surreal expressions. Alongside, the idea of a story within a story and with its dual narrative build up placidly incepts a deep sense of confusion in both layers of the story. This kind of experiment is certainly a new and rare treat for Indian film viewers.<br />
The music is just extraordinary. Rabindranath Tagore wrote the lyrics. It's a whole independent experience of his aura and a significant factor in the movie itself. Apart from the sense of camera, the music of the film is another solid gain. The original Rabindra Sangeet has been fused with dub, jazz & electronic music.The fusion mixes sublimely well with the lyrics and brings and amorous euphoric experience.<br />
Obviously, the original story from Tagore is extremely correspondent to our current reality, but 'Q' makes it ultra real with his idea of social revolution through sexual liberation, which is more human than anything. Certainly, 'Q's ideas are very much discordant to our current social norms. He is not from the old school of artists who already have a particular structure of their expression. His adaptation is almost a sensory and visual striptease, as he quoted before, 'Anyone can make you laugh or cry, I want to make you horny.'<br />
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-89658474451708641302013-08-20T04:26:00.003-07:002013-08-27T23:01:16.596-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">एकविसाव्या शतकाच्या उंबरठ्यावर असताना, विज्ञान, वैज्ञानिक दृष्टिकोन हा धर्म,देव, जात-पात या सगळ्यांना मागे टाकेल, हळूहळू हे सगळं नष्ट होईल असा अंदाज होता, पण विज्ञानाचा वापर केवळ उपकरण वा माध्यम म्हणून जास्त केला गेला. देव, धर्म संपले तर नाहीत पण त्यातल्या अविवेकाचे, मुर्खपणाचे आधुनिकीकरण झाले. आपला सगळा समाज या स्प्लिट सोशल पर्सेनॅलिटीने ग्रासलाय. म्हणजे आपण बाहेर वेगळे असतो आणि घरात वेगळे. बाहेर आपण उच्चविद्याविभुषित पत्रकार, लेखक, डॉक्टर वगैरे असतो आणि घरात आपण केवळ एक डेली दोनदा पुजा करणारी, नवस उपास पाळणारी, पत्रिकावगरे बघणारी, सत्यनारायण, होम वगरे करणारी 'सर्वसामान्य श्रद्धाळू'माणसं असतो. आपल्या या दोन्ही भुमिका आपण इतक्या सहजतेने पार पाडतो की आपल्या स्वतःच्या या दोन परस्परविरोधी भुमिकांबाबत आपल्या मनात यतकिंचितही प्रश्न उभे रहात नाहीत. बाहेर वावरताना विचार करावा लागतो आणि काम करावे लागते, केवळ पुजा केल्याने आणि चार रंगबेरंगी अंगठ्या घातल्याने पैसे मिळत नाहीत इतकी अक्कल आपल्याला आहे. बाहेर मी फिजिक्सचा प्राध्यापक असतो पण घरात मला लग्नासाठी मंगळ असलेली मुलगी चालत नाही. बाहेर मी इंजिनिअर असतो पण घरात वास्तुशांत आणि सत्यनारायण घातल्याशिवाय मी तिथे रहात नाही. बाहेर मी डॉक्टर असतो पण नुसत्या विभुतीने रोग्याला खाडकन बरे करणार्या तत्सम बाबाच्या चरणी माझा माथा सदैव टेकलेला असतो. मी घरात शास्त्रीय प्रश्न उपस्थित करत नाही. कारण तसे प्रश्न उपस्थित करणार्या लोकांना इथे जागा नाही, त्यांना मुर्खांच्या आणि माथेफिरुंच्या झुंडीला सामोरे जावे लागते.</span><br />
<span font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">मानवी मन हे जिथे जाईल, जे म्हणेल आणि जे करेल त्या सगळ्यामागे त्याचा कम्फर्ट असतोच. ही दुहेरी भुमिका अतिशय कम्फर्टेबल आहे. म्हणून कोणत्याही गोष्टीची चिकित्सा करण्यापेक्षा ती टाळणे सोप्पे होऊन जाते. नाहीतरी ही देवळं, धर्म आणि त्या अनुषंगाने घडत जाणारी संस्कृती ही एकतर काही अतिहुषार भडव्यांच्या सत्ताकारणाचे राजमार्ग आहेत नाहीतर अतिमुर्ख जनतेच्या भितीचे डंपिंग ग्राऊंड्स. हा 'धर्म' एक कल्पनेतला मोठ्ठा दरवाजा आहे, तुम्ही काहीही करा कसेही वागा, केवळ शेवटी या दरवाज्याजवळ येऊन क्न्फेशन्स द्या, शुद्धी करुन घ्या. मग इकडचे द्वारपाल ठरलेली रक्कम घेऊन तुम्हाला पलिकडे सोडतील आणि तुम्ही पुन्हा पवित्र होऊन बाहेर पडाल. मुळात हा असा दरवाजाच अस्तित्वात नाही याची जाणीव होणे आवश्यक आहे. अनेकांना ती असतेही परंतु माणसाच्या क्रुरपणाला,दडपशाहीला आणि भितीला शरण गेलेली 'माणसाळलेली माणसं' निमुटपणे या दरवाज्यासमोर रांगा लावतात.</span><br />
<span font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">आपली जसजशी प्रगती होत चाललीये तसतसं माहीतीचं आदान प्रदान करणं अधिक सोप्पं होत चाललंय. आपल्या पडणारे प्रश्न यांची उत्तरे जगाच्या एका दुसर्या कोपर्यात शोधता येतात. या वाढत्या ज्ञानाच्या कक्षांमूळे खरतर धर्म आणि अतिजुन्या सत्वहीन धार्मिक कल्पना यांभोवती दाटलेलं अज्ञानाचं धूकं दूर होणं अपेक्षित होतं पण तस नक्की होतंय का? आपण चिकित्सा करायलाच तयार नाही आहोत यामूळे धर्म अधिकाधिक रिजिड आणि वास्तवापासून</span><span class="text_exposed_show" display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> दूर चाललेला दिसतो. दुसरा महत्वाचा मुद्दा म्हणजे सामाजिक वर्तनाची मानके बनवणे हे जास्त जनतेचे आणि पर्यायाचे समाजाचे काम आहे. (भारतीय संविधान, मुलभूत कर्तव्ये, ARTICLE 51A [h]to develop the scientific temper, humanism and the spirit of inquiry and reform) आता निदान या क्षणापासून तरी विवेकवादी विचारसरणीची कास धरण्याची खूप गरज निर्माण झाली आहे. काही ठराविक लोक, संस्था, आंधळे विचार आपल्या भोवतालचं वास्तव वेगाने बदलता आहेत आणि आपण सगळ्यांनी डोळ्यावर पट्टी बांधल्याने आपल्याला ते सहज जाणवत नाही, मग अचानक दाभोळकरांसारख्या समाजसेवकाचा खून पडल्यावर आपल्या जाणीव होते पण तिथपर्यंत खुप उशीर झालेला असतो. असा उशीर होऊ नये, यासाठी 'सत्यशोधन' हा लहानपणापासून आपल्या शिक्षणाचा भाग होणे आवश्यक आहे, हे मुल्य जोपासण्यासाठी त्याला पुरेश्या लिबरल मानसिकतेच्या पाठिंब्याचीही गरज आहे. सत्यनारायण, नवस-सायास, देवाचे दुधाने, तेलाने अभिषेक, अर्थाची चिकित्सा न करता आरत्या, मंत्र म्हणणं, विविध बापू महाराजांच्या भजनी लागणं, सगळेच करतात म्हणून एखादी निर्बुद्धपणे करत रहाणं, इतरांच्या व्यक्तीस्वातंत्र्याबद्दल असंवेदनशीलता, इतर जातींवर धर्मांवर चिखलफेक करणं, प्रत्यक्ष किंवा गुपचूप एकाच जातीधर्माच्या लोकांमध्ये मिसळून गट करुन रहाणं या गोष्टींचा उल्लेख करण्याचे कारण असे की या गोष्टी खूप बेसिक आहेत. घरात, शाळा-कॉलेजात आणि लोकॅलिटीमध्ये यांचं प्रत्यक्ष किंवा सुप्त शिक्षण आपोआप मिळत असतं, त्यासाठी विशेष मेहनत किंवा अभ्यास करावा लागत नाही. काही ठराविक व्यक्ती तर या मुर्खपणाचे मोफत क्लासेस चालवत असतात. कसल्याही चिकित्सेशिवाय शरण जाण्याची मानसिकता तयार करुन जोपासण्यास इथुन सुरुवात होते आणि काहींसाठी हा प्रवास आसारामबापू-निर्मलबाबा यांच्या मठात नाहीतर धार्मिक-जातीय दंगलीपर्यंत अविरत सुरु रहातो. म्हणूनच अशा कुठल्याही कार्यकारणभावाला थारा न देणार्या, प्रतिगामी आणि नुकसानकारक धार्मिक संकल्पना यांसाठी आपला वेळोवेळी कच्चा माल म्हणून वापर होऊ नये यासाठी लहानपणापासूनच विवेकवादावर आधारलेल्या समाजशिक्षणाची तत्काळ गरज निर्माण झालीये.</span></div>
Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-38033923608913583002013-08-18T08:48:00.001-07:002017-06-25T00:22:12.214-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On one hill of the heaven<br />
they built a temple<br />
&<br />
they lent another hill<br />
to a prophet to preach.<br />
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Channeled the chaos of creation<br />
like deep rooted trees<br />
on the ancient graves<br />
&<br />
I slept peacefully<br />
thinking peace.<br />
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3340094220769287272.post-29201003479985423702013-08-04T23:05:00.004-07:002013-08-09T10:52:04.318-07:00शीप ऑफ थिसीयसः पॅराडॉक्सचं मोहोळ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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हया चित्रपटावर एक चित्रपट म्हणून खूप काहीं लिहिलं गेलंय. पण हा लेख मुख्यत: या चित्रपटाची तत्वज्ञानविषयक बाजू पडताळण्याचा केलेला प्रयत्न आहे. ही चित्रपटाची समीक्षा नाही. *या लेखात चित्रपटाच्या कथेविषयी रहस्यभेद आहेत.*<br />
प्लुटार्कने मांडलेला थिसीयसचा पॅराडॉक्स : जर जहाजाच्या जुन्या फळ्या एकेक करुन बदलल्या गेल्या तर नवीन फळ्यांनी बनलेलं जहाज हे तेच मूळ जहाज असेल की नाही?<br />
थॉमस हॉब्सने मांडलेली पॅराडॉक्सची पुढची बाजू : जर जहाजाच्या बदलल्या गेलेल्या सगळ्या जुन्या फळ्या एकत्र करुन त्यांचं पुन्हा अगदी तसेच्या तसे(qualitatively identical) जहाज बांधलं तर या नव्या जहाजाला शिप ऑफ थिसीयस म्हणायचं कां?<br />
थोड्क्यात शिप ऑफ थिसियसला केवळ भौतिक अस्तित्व आहे कि त्याला मेटाफिसीकल बांधणीही आहे? शिप ऑफ थिसियसच्या जागी एक सजीव माणूस ठेवला तर? आपण केवळ एक अणूरेणूंची काँप्लेक्स केमिस्ट्री आहोत की त्यापलिकडे अजून कांही? असे अनेक महत्वाचे प्रश्न उपस्थित होतात.<br />
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१)अंध छायाचित्रकार (नेणीवेची जाणीव)<br />
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आलिया ही एक अंध छायाचित्रकार. ही छायाचित्र टिपण्यासाठी ध्वनीचा वापर करते. नंतर ते आपल्या बॉयफ्रेंडकडून समजून घेते. मुख्य भाग असा की, ती त्याच्याकडून केवळ समजून घेते, पण त्याला निवडू देत नाही. त्याने तिच्या निवडीवर घेतलेला एक छोटासा आक्षेपही तिला पटत नाही आणि त्यासाठी ती अगदी टोकाला जाऊन त्याचे समर्थन करते. दुसर्या एका प्रसंगात, आलियाने काढलेल्या छायाचित्रांच्या प्रदर्शनात तिची मुलाखत घेताना, आलिया सस्किंन्द्च्या 'पर्फ्युम' या कादंबरीचा उल्लेख करते. या कादंबरीचा नायक त्याच्या आयुष्यात येणार्या प्रत्येक गोष्टीचा गंध मनात साठवून ठेवतो. एका तथाकथित साचेबद्ध सौंदर्याच्या संकल्पनेच्या पलिकडे जाऊन वेगळ्याच आणि नवीन जाणीवांमध्ये सौंदर्य शोधणारा नायक आलियाचं स्फुर्तीस्थान आहे.<br />
ही पहिली कथा आयुष्य,कला आणि सौंदर्य यांच्याबाबत काही महत्वाचे प्रश्न आपल्यासमोर उभी करते. एखाद्या गोष्टीला अनुसरुन आपण जेव्हा विचार करतो, तेव्हा तो पुरेपूर आपलाच विचार नसतो. त्यावर आपला मूळ स्वभाव,आचारविचार, जडण-घडण, संस्कृती या सगळ्यांनी निर्माण केलेला एक विशिष्ठ ठराविक साचा असतो. आपण ती मांडणी सहसा भेदत नाही, पण आलियाकडून ती भेदली जाते. आलिया जन्माने आंधळी नाही त्यामुळे एका डोळस माणसाच्या साच्यात ती वाढलीये. तिने काय गमावलंय याची तिला कल्पना असली तरी ती त्यावर मार्ग शोधते. ती जाणिवेच्या आकलनासाठी केवळ ध्वनीच्या माध्यमाचा वापर करते आणि आधी अनेकदा नेणीवेत ढकललेल्या नव्या सौंदर्यविश्वात प्रवेश करते.म्हणून तिला आपण अंधत्वामुळे कुठेही लिमिट झालो आहोत असे वाटत नाही.यातून अनेक प्रश्न उभे रहातात, ते म्हणजे आपल्या आयुष्याच्या आपण ठरवलेल्या सगळ्या संकल्पना आपल्या अंगभूत नैसर्गिक जाणिवांना झाकोळून टाकतात का? is there a hidden beauty in isolation of our senses? आपण व्याख्या आणि थिअरीजमध्ये जगतो का?<br />
आलियाचं अंधत्व आणि नंतर अंधत्वातून डोळसपणाकडे होणारं संक्रमण हे खूप ताकदीने दाखवलं गेलंय. आधी सहज फेरफट्का मारताना, रिक्षातून प्रवास करताना केवळ ध्वनीचा माग घेत ती रोजच्या सामान्य जीवनशैलीतलं सौदर्य टिपून घेते, परंतु डोळे आल्यावर तिला ते isolation of senses जमत नाही. आलियाला दृष्टी मिळाली तरी तिची सौंदर्य टिपणारी नजर नष्ट होते. आधी कुठेही सौंदर्य शोधणार्या आलियाला एखाद्या प्रेरणात्मक स्पॉटवर जाऊन फोटो काढावेसे वाटतात, त्यातही तिला आधीसारखे फोटोज काढणं जमत नाही आणि त्याच प्रयत्नात ती पुढे हिमालयही गाठते. तीलाही याची जाणीव आहे, ते विषद करताना ती म्हणते,"A frog once asked a centipede how is it to walk on a hundred feet so gracefully synchronized while the frog finds difficult to manage even two. A centipede took a moment to analyse its walk and was baffled. So as it tried to walk further its feet got entangles and it tripped." या कथेचा शेवटचा प्रसंग म्हणजे चेरी ऑन द केक टाईप रुपक आहे. नदीवरच्या पुलावर आलिया बसलेली असताना ती आपल्या कॅमेरावर कॅप (अंधत्व) लावायला जाते, पण चुकून ती हातून निसटते आणि नदीच्या पात्रात कायमची नाहिशी होते. इथे पहाताना आपल्याला जाणवतं की जेव्हा आपण आपल्या आयुष्याबद्दल आणि अस्तित्वाबद्दल जसजसा जास्त खोल विचार करत जातो आणि संकल्पना मांडत जातो, तसतसं आपल्याभोवतीचं आपलंच अजाणतेपण नष्ट व्हायला लागतं. आपली मानसिक शांती भंग पावते आणि कितीही केलं तरी आपण पुन्हा आपल्या जाणीवांना नेणीवांचं रुप देऊ शकत नाही. नव्या प्रश्नांचा सामना करत आपल्याला जगावंच लागतं. ("Ignorance is like a delicate fruit; touch it, and the bloom is gone." - Oscar Wilde) इथे अजाणती आणि नंतर जाणती झालेली व्यक्ती हाडामांसाने एकच आहे, परंतु ती खरोखर एकच आहे का??? हा खरोखरीचा बदल आहे की केवळ बदलाची संकल्पना?<br />
(to be continued.....)<br />
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Captain of the Lost Shiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08168524581083996058noreply@blogger.com1