What is love, anyway?

One Day (2024)
Miniseries E1-14.

“Hey, why are you watching this,” asked my daughter. “This is for youngsters like me.”

“I know. I just wanted to know how things have changed since the last time I heard about that good-natured four-letter word called love.” I replied. 

Just what is this thing called love? Is it a contract as flimsy as one drawn on water or a covenant written in stars that only the might of Time can erase? When one confesses or as much as loves someone with his heart and soul, what do we really mean? Is it a promise to preserve my seeds for the continuity of progeny? Is the place for love in the heart or mind too small to be shared by others? 

Suppose there are other variants of love, i.e. brotherly love, patriotism (love for the nation), gluttony (love for food), various fetishes (model planes, stamps, cars, etc.), and filial piety. Why can’t there be platonic love between a male or female (or preferred gender)? Is the concept of ‘friends-with-benefits’ even acceptable? Is sex so sacrosanct that it can only be sanctioned by the forces of Nature that make the Universe exist, or is it a merely biological process to ensure the continuity of species?

Does society want to put a name on the people who have to carry the burden (responsibility) of upbringing the product of a conjugal union? Even the Universe is playing Devil’s Advocate by putting pleasure in the place meant for work, i.e. continuity of species!

Based on a novel by David Nicholls from 2009, it was made into a feature film in 2011, starring Anne Hathaway in the lead role. Netflix made a limited series of the story, garnering critical acclaim. Set in the UK, pandering to the demand of the time, a brown actress is cast in the lead role. 

A misfit pair gets together at a graduation night party at the University of Edinburgh. Even though every graduate wants to bed somebody to make the night a night to remember, Emma, from the middle class, and Dexter, from the privileged class, just end up chatting the night away, talking about their future plans and such. 

They part ways the morning after but promise to stay in touch. They meet each other periodically. The show shows the ups and downs that they go through over the years. Each episode starts on the 15th of July every year, starting with the graduation ball that day in 1988. Over the years, their lives tangents off away from each other, finding their mojos, threading the good times and bad. They keep in touch, nevertheless. Their fondness for each other remains. Something that had been platonic had turned romantic. The question is, when? Did it happen in Edinburgh? Was it the culmination of the experiences taught at the School of Hard Knocks? 

Which is the hay that broke the camel’s back? When does love happen? Can we love more than one at a time? Is it a one-or-none law? Is it a promissory note to limit conjugal liaisons to avoid unnecessary baggage thereof?  

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It's Christmas time!

Merry Christmas (Hindi/Tamil versions; 2024)
Director: Sriram Raghavan

This film has it all: a little Hitchcockian, a tinge of noir, and a hefty dose of female fatale. Set in the urban setting of Bombay at Christmas, the storytellers thought it was all right to cast modern-thinking characters with modern values as protagonists. Otherwise, it would not be believable that a seemingly single mother would send flirting vibes and respond to the advances of a random hunk at the movie theatre. 

That is what happened in this movie. It is Christmas Eve. While everyone is in a celebratory mood, a recently released murderer, Albert, returns to his mother's home. As old memories haunt him, he goes out for a stroll. He meets Maria, who is wandering around with her young daughter, first at a restaurant and then at the cinema hall. They strike up a conversation, and she walks her home. After having a nightcap and leaving the sleeping child at home, they go for another walkabout. Upon their return, they discover Maria's husband slouched on a settee, dead, after apparently shooting himself. 

Albert, as a recently released convict, is sceptical about being involved in a death investigation. She instructs Maria to inform the police while he wipes out evidence of his presence at her apartment. 

Hours later, curious about the turns of events, Albert returns to Maria's apartment. There is no hullabaloo of a crime scene. Instead, he finds her in the company of another gentleman, going up to her place. He follows them to find no dead body there!

The rest of the movie is predictable, not because it is poorly done but because we have seen it all too many times in various combinations. The original story is from a 1962 French movie, Paris Pick-Up @ Le Monte-charge. The French version was more precise, shorter and straight to the point. In the Indian versions, however, there are additional characters. One cannot help but wonder whether other little nuggets are inserted between scenes to imply anything. I, for one, was left wondering whether the purpose of Albert's uncle naming his home-brewed moonshine 'Yadhoom' (Scandivanian for 'reason of existence'; why we love for) carried any obscure philosophical connotation to the whole story. 

Nevertheless, it is a refreshing movie with a retro 1970s feel, fuelled by a liberal display of neon lights to give it its noir background. Kudos to Vijay Sethupathi, Katrina Kaif and Sanjay Kapoor (in the Hindi version) for their commendable performances. In the authentic Hitchcockian way, it ends with a twist.

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movies

A case quite bizarre

Indrani Mukerjea: Buried Truth (2024)
Docu-series, 4 episodes.

From the land of the Veda and the Arthashashtra comes an intriguing case of a missing person, which has remained unresolved to date. In the land that believes that every nasty action has a compelling reaction with the belief that no evil deed will not go unpunished in this birth or next, perhaps punishment could only be meted out in the next life.

In 2008, The Wall Street Journal hailed Indrani Mukerjea as one of the 50 ladies to watch, and India conferred her with the award 'Uttar Ratna' for her outstanding work in the art, media, and broadcasting sector. By 2015, she had her hands full fending off money laundering charges and fighting a murder charge.

Her past is blurry for a start. Born Pori Dora, her actual birthdate is queried. In her early teenage years in Guwahati, Assam, she accused her father of sexually molesting her. She went off to Shillong, Meghalaya, for studies, where she met her first husband, Siddharta Das, with whom she had two kids, Sheena and Mikhail. She soon left her kids with her parents to move to Kolkata in 1990. In Kolkata, she married her second husband, Sanjeev Khanna, to have her third child, Vidhie. Vidhie is the main narrator in the documentary. Somewhere along the way, there is even a mention that Sheena could be the product of Indrani's father's despicable act.

In 2001, Indrani moved to Mumbai, where she met Peter Mukerjea. Her recruitment company became a hit, and she dabbled in the media industry. Together with Peter, they climbed the corporate ladder to become prominent figures in Indian media. She was the CEO of a media mogul.

Her daughter, Sheena, appeared in the Mukerjea fold in 2006. Indrani introduced her to her new family as her sister! Sheena also got herself embroiled in the Mumbai corporate rat race. She apparently had a relationship with Peter's son from a previous marriage. Indrani's side was resistant to this relationship.

By 2009, Indrani was pretty much out of the media limelight as her corporate rule went south with accusations of appropriation and money laundering. She left India to live in the UK.

In 2012, Sheena disappeared without a trace. Everybody assumed Sheena had run away from her fiance and had probably gone incognito. Three years later, Indrani was arrested for the murder. Indrani's driver admitted to having helped her to kill and bury Sheena. The driver let her to the remains, but DNA evidence from the body was rejected for technical reasons. The case was twisted, and Indrani, Peter, and the driver got out on bail.

The docu-series is so twisted. It smells of sensationalism and trial by the media. Nobody shows sensitivity to the deceased or the family in the programme. I guess it does not matter as the accused is family (the mother killing her firstborn). The family gave the green light to tell their side of the story, having been in the media, knowing how well media can spin the truth, of which Indrani had been part and that the case is still ongoing; Indrani and the family should know better. Perhaps they are just garnering public sentiments before the case gets mentioned again.

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Divine offering?

Extending food offerings to anyone and everyone has always been an honourable thing. It is also part of desert culture to break bread with a stranger one meets during one's long, weary travels. The frequent famines that famished the often battle-riddled land of Bharat made freshly made simple cooking God-sent.

The art of cooking for the masses arose not only from the indulgence of the Moghul Emperors, who made culinary skills an art form to die for but from the chefs preparing them for their hunger-stricken subjects.

Hunger pangs are real. It is not the irritation one gets after missing his cafè latte or the agony of waiting for his double burger. The homeless people in the city of London, waiting in line patiently for their fizzling hot dhall, chawal, and saag, could give us a first-hand experience of what sleeping with an empty stomach feels like. The real McCoy here is the twitch they feel in their belly as the piping hot masala chai aroma fills the air.

Now, in this age and age, the age-old interpretation of malnutrition is no longer confined to the one who is emancipated, skin and bones, but one where malnourishment goes the other extreme. One is overfed, too big to carry his own baggage, and stricken with various metabolic diseases of overindulgence. From a nation that generally ate two meals a day to one that eats at slight provocation, is the act of annathanam/ bhog still relevant? Is it still a good deed or merely akin to feeding a recalcitrant alcoholic more arrack?

Is food still the essence of life? (“Annam para Brahma swarupam”)

Donors sometimes do it to show their piety and gain bragging rights to aggrandise their stature in society. Others do it to wash away their private misdeeds, knowingly or unwittingly. Some do it with ulterior motives, hoping to get abundant returns in kind.

Then, there will be groups that draw numbers to fulfil personal political ambitions. The bond of eating together goes beyond the act of fulfilling gastronomic desires. This may explain why dating couples plan elaborate dinner plans to impress each other. People become law-abiding when it comes to food. Just see the rows of obedient customers queuing for hours to get their nasi kandar fix. Anyone can initiate a Pavlovian response through food. The way to a man's (or woman's) heart is through the stomach.

It is not all saffron and ghee in the land of Annapoorana. The recipients of these offerings blessed by the divine forces are sometimes not worthy of the heavenly gifts. They do not practise the adages of 'waste not, want not', 'eat to live, not live to eat' and treat 'food as medicine'. They overindulge and have no qualms about assigning the free-gotten meals to the bins, either because they took too much because it is free or because their incisors crave the animalistic tearing of meaty meals.

True, we live in a world of abundance and contradictions. Development and industrialisation saw our race scale the highest skies and deepest mountains, but a section of the population would still be lost in the rat race. Community-based social projects like these, either on spiritual or secular backgrounds, will go a long way to help out the needy.

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Restart and Restart!

12th Fail (2023)
Directed by: Vidhu Vinod Chopra

I remember my parents, more expressively my mother, going through the same emotions as the elders in this family. They believed unabashedly that education was the only weapon they could use to break the shackles of poverty and hopelessness. Towards this end, they sacrificed their luxuries, comforts in life, and pride to show off to their peers what they had that their parents did not have.

I remember seeing the same expressions in my mother's eyes every time her plans were derailed by inevitable mistakes or inactions. She soldiered on, thinking everything would be solved once her children graduated. Rightly or wrongly, in her mind, a sound education was her panacea to all difficulties in life. With that single-minded determination, no mountain was too high to scale, and no river was too deep to sail. To the economically challenged, education is a more assured and level playing field way to prosper.

This biopic is based on an unbelievably true story of a student in Chamboli, MP, who failed his 12th Standard but went on later to win the coveted UPSC (Union Public Service Commission) examinations to become an IPS officer. He overcame abject poverty and the many obstacles to shine in the end. Coming from an area known more for dacoity rather than anything, the teachers in the school collectively volunteered the answers to their students to improve their scoring and, hopefully, a better life. Bad luck to Manoj Kumar Sharma. The year he sat for his 12th Standard examinations, an honest DSP was posted to his district. He stopped the whole examination as blatant copying was going on. So everybody in the school failed the 12th Standard that year. The DSP later became the motivating factor for living an honest life. Manoj passed the 12th Standard the following year and went on to Gwalior, aiming to be DSP like his hero.

His life in Gwalior was no bed of roses. Robbed of his luggage, pocket money and cancellation of the state government-sponsored public service examinations, he was left hungry and homeless.

His life took a turn again when he met Pandey. Together, they head to Delhi to try to sit for the Union Public Service Commission examinations to aim to become an IPS officer.

The rest of the story is an account of his adventures, including the ups and downs of his journey to finally be bequeathed the prized post of an Indian Police services officer.

Sailing through his journey, almost side by side, was his later wife, Shraddha, who became a Deputy Collector of the IRS. Currently, she is the managing director of the Maharashtra Tourism Board, and Manoj Sharma is the additional commissioner of the Mumbai Police.

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Unsolved murder mystery

Auto Focus (2002)

Director: Paul Schrader

Hogan's Heroes used to be a regular feature on RTM's slot for late-night comedy. It did not leave much of an impression on our minds as it dwelled with something quite uninspiring, in our minds at least. It was about a wise-cracking American General and his staff who were imprisoned in a German POW camp during WW2. They tried to outwit their captors, spy upon them and sabotage their every move. It went on for six seasons. 

The main character, Robert Crane, or rather his death, appeared in one of the crime podcasts. Initially a family man and a church-going Catholic, he got the acquaintance of John Henry Carpenter. Carpenter was an electronic techie who introduced Crane to the then-nascent home videos in the 1965s or so.

As the film puts it, both developed a symbiotic relationship. Crane, through his good looks and contact with showbiz, got in contact with girls, and Carpenter would set the recording devices to record their sexual acts. Over the years, the sheer number of tapes in their collection hit the roof. 

Crane's offers dwindled after Hogan's Heroes. Money troubles crept in. His wife divorced him. He married his co-star, with whom he was already in a relationship. He moved around performing at dinner parties whilst feeding his sex addiction. Carpenter was his partner in crime, helping out in imprinting their trysts on tape.

Crane was found dead, bludgeoned to death and strangled with an electrical cord. Even though Carpenter was high on the suspect list, his crime was never proven. It is believed that they had a falling.

Man's (and women's) curiosity about the forbidden probably started from their stay at the Garden of Eden. Voyeurism must have ensued moments after their banishment from there when Adam became curious about Eve's appendages. As more offspring sprung, rules had to be laid, adding curiosity to the young minds. The subtle art of voyeurism found its place in society. What started as yellow literature in print and illustration has morphed to capture more minds through CCTVs, tapes and now hand-held devices. 

Apparently, there is no shame in viewing it on the sly. Due to its ease of access, everyone is watching it anyway. But God forbid if someone is caught consuming or assumes the role of performer, willingly or otherwise, the whole shebang of shaming and victimisation befalls upon them. It is now perfectly healthy to have a wedded couple in their birthday suits as part of their wedding photoshoot package. YOLO.

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The Elusive Utopia

© Borderless Journal

When I was growing up, the radio was the musical score constantly playing in the background. Blaring between Tamil movie songs and radio dramas were news of the hour and current issue discussions. The things that got imprinted on my impressionable mind as I was transforming from a teenager to a young adult were about violence, wars and bombings. I remember about the war in Vietnam as it was close to home. For every peace talk and the end of war announcement, there would pop up another bombing and a barrage of casualties. My simple mind wondered when the war would end, but it never did. It went on for so long that they had a Tamil film in 1970 named Vietnam Veedu (House of Vietnam), referring to a household forever in family feuds and turmoil....

https://borderlessjournal.com/2024/03/14/the-elusive-utopia/