Of Khamoshi and Cohen

I watched Khamoshi (1969) this Sunday and its almost after four days that I am able to fathom its intensity. Masterpiece is an understatement for something as overwhelming as it. I cannot begin to exclaim my awe at Waheeda Rehman's acting, she is perfect, a personification of perfection. Maybe many won't agree at the enormity I saw in Khamoshi, it can be because its appropriate timing and how well I was relating to it. I want to elaborate on the story, the finesse but I'd rather that people watch it themselves. Such an emotional experience cannot be achieved through someone else's words. Another thing that took time and hence delayed this post was a search for other movies that I can  talk of while discussing Khamoshi, some came close, but none seemed appropriate enough to stand beside this legend. So this post is purely dedicated to that only movie, though I will be referring to an artist later.
Radha, the role played by Waheeda Rehman in the movie is that of a nurse. Throughout the movie she is seen catering to mentally unfit. Both her patients have sicknesses out of love, abandoned and broken, they seek the warmth of this dedicated and sympathetic nurse who infuses life in them, while draining herself of that very essence. She falls hopelessly in love with Dev (played by Dharmendra, whose face is hidden throughout the movie and only the voice is heard), though this surrender is not fruitful, as she is his caretaker before anything. And when the patient is fit, he leaves. Rest is part of the plot, how another patient (Rajesh Khanna) comes in with a similar dis-balance, and her vitality reaches a point of absolute saturation.
My fascination with the movie is because of many reasons. The sheer beauty of it and how disturbed it left me. No, its not the most gut-wrenching movies I have ever seen, neither is it one of the best plots. But when you witness something so close to your existence, you feel moved at an entirely different level. It threatened me. Threatened me of loneliness verging on insanity. Of this foolish instinct of trying to fix broken things and ending up with bits and pieces of what was once a whole. It is not just me. Many of us have felt this fear of abandonment of ourselves at our own hands, neither is it conscious nor pleasant. Its hopeful. Sickly hopeful. And with the end of this hope, we demolish every bit of sanity. Radha, despite being in love keeps on treating Arun and presents herself as the ideal subject of affection. With any bit pf physical intimacy scratching out memories from her past, she keeps draining herself. By the end, she is tired and fed up. Tired of this constant toil of attaining that state of affection and happiness. Men in her life have been ill, both metaphorically and literally, she can never be more than a nurse to them. Time after time she listens, keeps on listening and healing whereas not once is her melancholia questioned. Khamoshi is a critique on how many relationships take a form of parasitic dependency.
It made me take a look at the relationships I have shared with men. From extremely insecure to highly greedy ones, they seek care and repairing. Want all the pieces to brought together and assembled. But are those assemblies always what you have hoped for? And why are you always the one who runs to fix men up. Maybe it is some idiosyncrasy inside my head, or maybe it is the lack of good men that I feel more comfortable with walking away. I feel more comfortable and at ease when I quietly slip away from their beds and lives without having to take a look at their dents. But in this process, you leave something behind, even though a fragment. But something is missing the next time you plan for a short endeavor. And I know for a fact that there are many women  like me, who would rather indulge in an impulse than a prolonged duty of a caretaker  But Khamoshi triggered something. A fear maybe. Of what I am not very certain of but it did and that has been haunting me.
Like many others I happen to be at content with my life except for few personal bumps, but they are miles away from ambitions. I don't crave for romantic company as my girlfriends are fulfilling enough. I don't miss long night talks as I have started liking falling asleep on time.I miss nothing, nothing at all. Rather I feel that this path is safer. Though there are nights when you really crave for that special warmth (which I have been mentioning repetitively) and then the rains that have a beautiful introspective characteristic about them. And then its those times when I rise slightly above the rush I am in, of doing this, saving that, thinking this, proving that, earning this and losing that, it is then when I wish for an earthly touch that  helps me stay rooted. But despite the absence of it, I turn to my mother.
The artist that I mentioned above is a poet. Leonard Cohen, he might sing and strum the guitar, but what runs in his each vein through all the red blood is poetry. Every word is like a love child of two beautiful Muses. He soothes me, calms me and pushes me aside from the crowd. His voice echoes in my head and then creates ripples in my soul. That man knows women like no one else. Cohen doesn't drip honey from his tongue or speaks smoothly, he is passionate and sublime,. and the sublimity wipes of every corner of your heart and purifies you. There have been times when I would listen to him and loose myself to darkest urges. He would haunt me and then calm me. It was his and only his music that I could hear ever since I watched Khamoshi.
Take your solace in Cohen and let him put you at peace. The rush, the crowd the evil race with yourself and the vicious cycle that usually ends in insanity, put a red silk clothe over all these embellishments you have collected for yourself through years, and sway to Leonard's angelic earthy baritone voice. He might not solve or help those secrets under the red clothe disappear, but he will surely teach you how to pick each item and decorate yourself with it. These frivolous moments I feel of loneliness are exaggerated and of course the threat stands still strong, but as I try harder everyday to attain some peace, I find myself falling deeper into an oblivion of self-doubt and hopelessness, so I let Leonard Cohen dance me to the end of love. Indulge, my love as these few moments of sanity that are left, won't last very long.
Here are a few lines of a very popular song by him:

"Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love "

Finale.

"Its time", I hear the voices speak to me. They are familiar.
Maybe because I spent twenty years in this prison.
They gave me lifetime, for what I know not. My hands were tender.
And mind timid. So, now with a black mask on my face
They cuff me one last time. I feel pleased and nervous.
When death lies a step away, fear is not instant. Excitement is.

Cuffing me softly, these familiar voices guide me to a room.
They say its my last bath, and so I believe. Uncovering my face
I find a mirror. The reflection is peculiar, like a little girl running with ponies.
I lived my life as if it was real. I turned all tricks, laid all my cards.
But this was my masterpiece. Once I ditched it all, to be alive
But now I wait for the final ushering. Oh this final glimpse. My only battle.

With my body still wet, they take me to the main room. A table, and one man.
Was he a scavenger or a cannibal I did not understand. The voices laid me down flat.
As I lay on my back, waiting for the quiet beast to prepare his needles.
The men fasten my buckles, the scavenger passes a smile. In this oblivion
I try and recall what brought me here. I didn't want to go back.
This was as peaceful as I ever felt. But I remember.

I murdered a child when I was five.
I slaughtered a laborer when I was ten.
I banished a father when I was thirteen.
I turned into a flesh-eating cannibal by sixteen.
By seventeen I has killed and fed on twenty men.
And it was twenty, when I tried to kill the only one I loved.

The crimes were clear, the punishment was just. I felt calmer as the time passed.
The scavenger turned into a priest, like the one from my dreams.
The voices took shape of all the men I loved. And with their hands
Farewelling through touch, I started anticipating those blissful needles.
I am faithful to this moment and sentence myself to death.
Of all the useless things I have done, this was most honest.

So, the priest smiles again, and kisses my forehead. Ready for the final baptization.
He rubs the vein on my arm and softly puts it inside. My skin permits
The soothing piercing oh the cold metal. I close my eyes, and feel every drop
Entering proudly, dutifully impressing their God. The needle stays in for long.
Few minutes pass, and my eyes remain shut. The air inside me is violet.
My favorite color. Marking its finale, I smile and surrender patiently.

The Facade and Pedophilia

'Hard Candy' was a disappointment. I rate it below 7, as I was expecting much more. The story-line was strong and gripping and I have never seen Ellen Page hold the screen as strongly as she did there. The story is about a paranoid young girl who is borderline insane and is determined to hunt men with slightest pedophilic inclinations. I liked how absolutely unexpected are her actions. You don't expect her actually castrate the innocent guy (but then again we never know if he is truly innocent), neither do you expect her to make him kill himself. The same day i watched 'Little Children', quite a coincidence though. Except for the steaming love affair between Kate Winslet and Patrick Wilson, the plot revolves around a registered child molester. There are times when you are left questioning the validitity of such insanity, or if its insanity at all.
I am studying Frankenstein and Things Fall Apart these days. And it is Frankenstein that I would like to talk about. In his preface to Mary Shelley's novella, P.B Shelley says something remarkable:
"..it (Frankenstein, the novel) affords a point of view to the imagination for the delineating of human passions more comprehensive and commanding than any which the ordinary relations of existing events can yield."
To explain in simpler terms, he says that it is by exciting or talking about extraordinary passions that the human mind can yield something better or above normal. The feeling of something so superior that it falls out of your control, experiencing the role of a creator to an extent that it demolishes you. Mundane acts such as following your daily trivial routine can never entice emotions as extravagant as these. He does not validate or permit any outrageous behavior, rather he tries to explain the beauty of inhibiting something extreme inside you. I can also talk about how sometimes an artist feels powerless in front of his own creation, but it would make this post sound too academic and lengthy.
My focus is going to be PEDOPHILIA. The disorder or a chosen evil, its aftermath on the guilty and the victim. To begin I need to pick out names of all the movies I have seen till now that have somehow brought this topic; 'M', 'Lolita', 'The Lover', 'Last Tango in Paris', 'Hard Candy', 'Gone Baby Gone', 'Little Children', 'The Color Purple' and...well these are the few that I was able to recollect.
This monstrous state, of having a craving of devouring little children, that fills their minds and members just as much. Its disgusting, but I will not judge today. People are sick, some really are and this is one thing that I figured from 'M'. But what is heart breaking is that these sexual endeavors leave children scarred, and when I say scarred I mean for lifetime. There are ways to perceive it, some render helplessly and surrender themselves to a life of emotional confinement whereas some liberate too much and loose control. But one major aspect that I have noted is the popular glorification of this act. For example take 'Lolita', Vladimir Nabokov was valorized and criticized, his novel is now read and appreciated throughout the world. I am not judging, at least not yet, because I liked reading and watching it. When you see that girl through the eyes of that man you notice curves and wetness in places, the water glistening on her body, her hair falling lightly on her shoulders, the red lipstick and physical movements. We see so because he wants us to see that, but the end is brutal, justified and tragic. The man is killed and suffers for very long, perhaps not more than the girl herself. It made me wonder about voluntary involvement of some young kids into these acts. But that is again too vast a domain with far too many arguments.
'Hard Candy', though I did not like it much, but it made me think. I have known people who have been sexually abused as children. I know and understand that pain and helplessness, I also understand this need for revenge, a satisfactory vengeance. But is vengeance ever really satisfying. Look at the character of Page, she goes around castrating and killing men with slightest suspicion of pedophilia. Would I do that? Yes. But not just pedophiles, but to every man who ever tried getting too comfortable on the bus, or the man who exposed himself. I don't detest these men, I just feel they are of no use. There is an overpowering sadness and then that is replaced by anger. Hayley (Page's character's name in Hard Candy) is going through this struggle. She no longer seeks vengeance, rather she seeks a way out of the suffering inside her by subjecting other men to it.
Now I am shifting my focus from PEDOPHILIA. Its incomprehensible sometimes to see men and women trying so hard SO HARD to feel safe. Not with a partner, not within family, they don't have to feel threatened to want to protect themselves. This safety is not coming out of relationships, rather from a lack of some specific emotions that one is programmed to receive from the society. Since they are born, they are subjected to movies about hopeful love, happy and ideal state of families, a proper and healthy public image and also the ideal physical appearance. I am still trying very hard to not be didactic. But it is this neutrality that pushes boundaries and drags people to an extremity. There are so many people around me who have taken up the duty of pretense. They feel too uncomfortable and don't find people trustworthy enough of any real revelations. But these revelations, they are not some dark secrets that would take away their privacy or feel offensive, it will rob off their safety. The security that took decades to establish.
This might not be unhealthy, but its tiring isn't it? Its tiring to wake up everyday and pretending you have a goal to accomplish, pretending that you will achieve that state of sheer unadulterated happiness some day, pretending to be the most entertaining person who have the wildest stories and pretending that you are exciting. Whereas somewhere inside, when for once you are alone and you are watching an apparently funny movie. You laughed your ass out with people and friends around, you pretended to have actually liked it, but that day when you put it up on your own, you felt nothing, absolutely nothing.
It is not hilarious. The condition of bondage, this pledge that we have made to ourselves in exchange for security is fragile. Its ephemeral. Don't get lost behind that proper and sophisticated mask like 'American Psycho' ( yes, i know, too extreme).
Just make a little promise to yourself, that when you are over all that facade, you will put that comedy on and not move a muscle. Be honest to yourself. Once in a while. Confess.
Confess that you'd be better off.
Accept.!

Skinny Dip.

Another morning, like many others. She is wide awake and plans a long walk. It rained last night and the air smells beautifully wet.  The slumber was sweet and long, the perfect night after a long time. She cuddled up to herself and fell asleep with music, and last night she forgot about lack of warmth or anything at all. Though dreams of strange men with stranger voices woke her up early, but today she was planning for a long walk and that was exciting. So she wore her best clothes and let her hair open. She was sure that tonight she will be back with someone.
The sky was dark and cloudy, 'It will rain again' she thought  to herself. The route was not of charcoal or mud, it was rocky filled with round pebble like stones found on river beds. The trees formed a tunnel and kept her covered and shaded. They turned into a long rectangular screen covering the entire path. 'Pretty Woman' was soon playing around her. She kept walking in the backdrop of a fairy-tale-like love story, with beautiful people successfully finding love and living a dream. It cheered her up, and anyways Richard Gere was a favorite. Moving ahead she started finding people around her, they were not passing by or were actually present. They seemed like vague human figures filling spaces so she doesn't feel too lonely. She has been walking for more than twenty minutes now, despite the people and 'Pretty Woman' she started getting bored. Just then, a young man with a smart hat and unfitting jeans caught her eye. It was anyways getting slightly boring, so she decided to go up to him. They chat, he tells her about the music he likes, she talks about her favorite movies. She asks what was he doing here, he gives a faint answer. So they start walking together. The backdrop changes from 'Pretty Woman' to 'Say Anything'. This cheers her up even more, also because she has a companion now. Just like she promised herself. They keep walking and talking together, turning and watching clips. It was near afternoon now, and the day was turning out be pretty nice. So they decide to stand for a little while, the guy insisted on stopping. She had always been valiant about her ideas, so when he tried to push opinions on her, she retaliated. She was taken by shock when he grabbed her head and banged it on a tree.
The blood had started to dry out and she was strong enough to walk again. She continued her journey as her will was strong and most of all, she didn't want to sleep alone tonight. Movie that was being projected on trees soon changed to 'A Walk to Remember'. It slightly irritated her, but hope made her smile. So she wiped off the blood on her forehead fixed her dress, tied her hair and kept walking. It was only five minutes after that she found another man. She opened her hair and approached him. They didn't talk about music or people, they smiled at each other. He had greeted her with a consoling smile, so when they began to walk , he held her hand softly. Maybe he saw her getting hurt or maybe he figured the wound, but whatever it was, it made him very gentle. They kept smiling and talked about simple things. She was pleased again as he comforted her, so when he asked to stop for a while she got scared. It was past evening and they have been together quite long. She pleads him to stay but he goes inside the forest anyways, promising a return. She sat and waited for an hour. But she could not afford to wait any longer as she had to be home by night. Leaving alone broke her heart a bit.
The background had now changed to 'An Affair to Remember'. And she wanted these hopelessly romantic movies to stop. The sun had set and darkness was whispering around her. She started feeling irritated and angry, she wanted someone to take it out on. So when she found the beautiful looking man sitting on a bench, she knew what she wanted. She sat next to him, turned his face to hers and looked at him. Oh he was so good looking. She grabbed his face and started kissing. He reciprocated with a wilder wetter kiss. They bit each other and left marks. He was a great lover and exactly what she needed. She stayed and had wild sex with him for fifteen minutes and then, walked away. Leaving him craving and helpless.
And now it was 'Bridget Jones Diary'. Argh! She wanted these to stop. STOP and leave her quiet. It was past midnight. After that man, she met two more and found them beyond foolish, so she abandoned them and kept to herself. All the while she had been thinking and questioning her intentions. What was is it that she was seeking, that made her step out and take on to this path. Irrespective of any straight answer she kept on with her journey and did not stop for any guy afterwards. Walking she didn't even realize how three more hours passed. Her mind was filled with doubts and anger. The night was tiring and intense, she just wanted to rest now. She had been walking for way too long. Just as she thought of sitting down on the rocks, she saw something. Ten minutes of walking more and her eyes could not fathom the beauty. Beauty of what was before her eyes, a huge lake, she had been through this path before and never found this gem. Those irritating movies had stopped and her mind was clear. She was overwhelmed by what was before her, and by that she was mad at herself for taking up this task anyways. But nothing seemed more important or significant in front of something so mesmerizing.
Her loose dress, she pulled that off with eyes stuck on the lake. She took off her sandals one by one. The cool breeze was now touching her body innocently, but it was still not satisfying, So she unhooked her bra and removed her underpants. The breeze seemed to hug her naked skin, the cool soothing touch on every inch of her body made her feel relieved and complete. But what she wanted to achieve was still not complete.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breathe and dived into the lake. The water filled all the empty spaces, the projector stopped, the vague men  and women disappeared. She couldn't hear or think anymore and the water engulfed her primitive state happily.

The Evil Forest.

The orange sun was prepared to rise and enlighten this seemingly dark forest
A forest, a jungle which men dare not enter. There lived wild animals.
Animals that would prey on creatures with tender flesh, feed and survive.
Cat was a lioness that lived with her mate. He wasn't the king of this evil abode.
Every morning he would accompany her for food and shelter.
And others, foxes, wolves, wild boars, jaguars, leopards and vultures
Feared his presence around her. The sun was ready for another day.
Rising slowly from behind lush green trees. Long triangular groups that
Gave the forest its cozy enclosed surrounding. Awaking and bracing
All wild beings would start preparing for their feasts with the first ray.
Cat too, woke up with her mate and traveled in search for a meal.
She was young, bashful and proud. Fear was not her possession
And she walked valiantly in her mate's presence. Like any other day
They went to gather. Hunting and running, finding and feeding each other
She was waiting to deliver cubs that he had planted in her. But the weight
Killed her speed and swiftness, so he would go by himself today.

Hours had passed, the sun was waiting for their fulfillment. But as
Cat was alone, it waited longer. Heavy and alone, Cat decided to search.
She set off on her own, her nipples were swollen and the walk was tiring.
The barbaric creatures were returning from their hunt, so she didn't feel alone.
Cat was an appealing lioness, her fur was always bright and shining.
Muscular and swift, Cat walked with a swing.
In her younger days, many lions tried to pursue her. The sway of her walk
And that special coat made her attractive to all of the jungle.
But she had a mate now, who was lost and impossible to find.
The sun decided to give up on her search, and so did she. On her
Way back, she took the longer route, hoping to find him somewhere along.
The search was  futile. But the darkness had begun to settle down.
Wild cats now perched on branches of tall trees and stared at her.
Hungry or not, they were always looking for a prey.
From leopards to vultures, everyone soon had their eyes stuck on Cat.
Feeling the stare, she tried walking carefully. Tried to be less tempting.
All females were inside by the dark, only male beasts had the curious eye.

Slowly the night ushered in, warning her of a danger. But she was still not afraid.
Cat had made this walk several times with her mate. The long route turned longer
The night felt darker and sounds of the jungle, which caressed her once
Were now keeping the beasts quiet. But their eyes shone brighter in the dark.
Their hungry growls and salivation could be heard from a distance.
But Cat kept moving forward, soon on every tree sat a hunter, staring and drooling
At her walk, how her back moved with every step, the shiny fur coat,
Those green eyes and the smell of fertility grew them wild. Wilder and closer,
Cat was feeling all the savages around her. Her mate was missing, and  now they knew it.
Even the vultures anticipated a mid-night snack, so they perched on highest branches.
The way got narrower, and Cat lonelier. Seeking the right spot, all the beasts from
Trees around jumped on her. It was dark and quiet, but the air was now filled with
Moans and cries, Cat resisted and fought hard. Growled at her highest and screamed aloud.
But these fell on deaf ears, females were now waiting for the hunt to end
So they could feast again. A leopard jumped on her back and held the fleshy behind.
He dug his nails inside. Cat screamed, then another beast dug his nails inside her
Pregnant belly, blood rushed out. And all took their tongues out for a taste.

A group of six on a lonely lioness. They ravaged her, raped her and ate her.
Once the act of molestation was over, females came leaping to have a bite
Of such tender flesh. The cannibalistic creatures had split her womb open
Ate the little babes who Cat was eagerly waiting for. They pulled
Her gut out and divided between six. Her four nipples were scratched and
Grabbed away to be eaten by elders. The beautiful coat was now drenched
In her and her babies' blood. The night brought a small feast for all.
And the vultures were now eagerly waiting to feed on her again.
She didn't lose her way, neither was she a stranger. All the wild animals
Loved her, and the females envied her for her beauty. Cat had lost
Her mate. And was now lying in bits and pieces of discarded flesh
Everyone had a bite, tasted her warm flesh and drank her blood.
The bones and leftover was waiting for savage birds to be fed on
All night. Cat didn't take a wrong turn, neither did she had a fight.
She just stepped out alone in the night.

It Wants Warmth.

Today was a good day, I managed to watch three wonderful and different movies. Read and got myself to like Mrs. Dalloway, just the mindless rambling was bothering a bit but the moment Woolf gets her hand on the mind, she had me. Same happened when Sylvia Plath talked to her best friend about her state edging on insanity. But these movies were different, made me feel something common but moving, it was not new or strange, it was a reminder.
Warmth, love, compassion and adoration, these are most missed and sought after by men and women of all times and ages. A child playing alone or an old man not able to open his medicine bottle, companionship is a requirement and a need. Either a playmate or a best friend, our little hearts are wired to fall in love. Somehow warmth of another human body has always attracted and pulled me. Though there is a bit of absence of such a pleasure, but I like to fall into nostalgia. There are time when I hug myself and remind me of the warmest hugs and most soothing kisses. It may sound lonely or sad, but it isn't. All of us feel conflicted and confused between things, I feel so too, but that isn't pushing me off the track. Anyhow, back to warmth and compassion. Aren't there some special days, early in the morning, light rain infusing the air with muddiness and laziness, you twist and twirl between sheets, probably expecting an arm to grab and spoon you closer, a good-morning kiss that doesn't wake you up but extends your slumber. Ah! Tricks that the mind plays! I do, I feel this vulnerability and fragility some days, days that I feel lonely.
That reminds me of significance of such intimacy and warmth. Monster's Ball, is lovely. With sudden deaths and beautiful acting by both Halle Berry and Billy Thornton, it leaves an impression. Berry has a way of pulling of these poignant roles, like in Things We Lost in the Fire, chemistry between the stunning Benicio Del Torro and our Catwoman was simply captivating. People are entangled to each other through tragedy and hope. Though there are a lot of us who would rather do away with this liability. But once there is a void as huge as this one, the road is not easy. Isn't that what all successful famous people have talked about? Aren't there a lot movies about extremely ambitious lonely people who are either clinically depressed or serial killers!
Ofcourse there is an incomplete answer to whether (some) people are better off without their insides branching out to others, always putting them at a risk or there is hope and love for everyone, and sometimes its mandatory. Many may read this also as an account of "first world problems", but it is not. People throughout the world feel this gutting inside them. Expression and communication may vary, but every human being, after disassociation of divisions like race, class, caste and gender, in the end has the similar needs. I can put an example of many such circumstances. This is where I would like to bring in Monster. Charlize Theron gained a fan after such a mind blowing verging-on-unbelievable performance. Playing a fat ugly hooker, who after being brutally raped closes on paranoia and murderers around ten men. I would rather avoid the socio-political anger it evoked in me and rather talk about the issue in focus. Its heartbreaking. That's all, it takes your heart out and shatters, you lose hope for any betterment of this world. You develop disgust and sadness. What ultimately takes her down to the brink of attempting murders? A woman that she sees as a love-loaded escape. Some love, and things might have been alright for her? But nothing is ever that simple.
With HappyThankyouMorePlease, Ted (Josh Radnor) does a decent job with this movie as a writer, producer and lead actor. Though there isn't much out of the ordinary going on, but by the end I had a smile on my face. I somehow felt relieved about something. Ted is Ted, a guy hopelessly looking for love, so there isn't much scope for discussion.
I would like to conclude this with a note, a note to self and others like me.
" We spend days and years trying to sort things out, and hoping for a singular direction that would somehow take us where we please. There are days when this seems like a struggle, a struggle that tires and refuses to end. There are decisions that we might make keeping our ambition in mind and hold those walls strong. It all sounds very cliched, but when I feel it inside me, it seems honest. There are so many plans I have made for myself, so much work I have allotted to me. No way in the world will I abandon it, but sometimes it's okay to cut some slack and dream of waking up next to some warmth."

Not so Evil.

'Paanch', took me by surprise. I was anticipating something different but I never expected such a movie to scare me. Yes! I feel scared and afraid, I don't know of what and how, but somehow the catharsis of 'Paanch' has left me continuously turning back and looking for some one. Pure evil, cold-bloodiness, the sheer capacity of a men to inhabit such an absence of ruth within themselves was shaking. I have watched movies like 'American Psycho' and felt similar things. But Paanch was different somehow, mainly because of the Indian setting it was very easy to relate. The struggle and need for making money, that pressure and obviously the drugs, it all seems familiar. In the first hour, Anurag Kashyap has taken enough time for us to believe and settle in the background. Just when he has made you comfortable, he shakes you up. It felt quiet good to watch such a thriller after a while. There is a terrifying haunting feel about it which leaves a long lasting impression.
Pure evil is impossible, no one is or can be absolutely vile. The emphasis I place on relationships is a bit exaggerated and almost justifying. 'We Need to Talk about Kevin' (SPOILER ALERT) is probably the best example one can see of how people and relationships could turn a little child into a mass murderer.Though Kevin is a psychologist's delight and I am incapable of narrowing down a single reason, but what I do believe in is his acceptance of his mother as the only companion. He doesn't kill her, she is the ONLY woman who is spared by him. In the end when Kevin is being moved, the fear and doubt in his eyes are of a child. A child who is confused and has done some bad things. There is always something that even the most evil of men turn to and feel meek in front of. But isn't the definition of evil itself problematic? What is evil? What acts constitute this vice? 'Dexter' is a blood thirsty savior, 'Joker' played on this World's weaknesses, split the wounds wide open only to be healed. Its fascinating how people are shaped and transformed into beings of disaster. Hitler was a weak man himself, when it came to rediscovery of his neurosis. One of Hitler's lovers said that he would like them treating him as a slave, whipped and patronized with abuses and curses.
'Paanch' is thrilling, its impulsive and its exciting, it disgusts you at times and gives you goosebumps. Murdering people does not send a good message, but whats is the point of their survival anyways. There are times when I really want to grab a knife and stab people, if not kill then just harm severely. Some people just don't deserve to exist. Yes. No matter how elitist that sounds and how extreme it can be considered, but existence is highly over rated. Being alive is treated too morally. Don't you ever feel like killing? Well, yes this thought can be adopted by intellectually incapable people and can result in pointless massacres. But if I do ignore (very selfishly) that aspect of this proposal then it seems perfect. Bane (Dark Knight Rises), I liked the man for terrorizing Gotham, all the people who died, what was their point of living ANYWAYS.
This shithole is filled with parasites who ignore and who make it hard for those who want to help. Its driven so majorly by money that thousands struggle for mere survival. The dominance of existential ideas overwhelm my mind sometimes, maybe I need to be productive and put it at use.
Though this post didn't end how I expected it to, but probably this is what happens when you complete a piece with a gap of 24 hours. My mood wavered significantly during that while and hopelessness along with tiredness is the state of my mind right now.

This Man in the Crowd.

In a crowd I see him standing with an air of shame and regret
Men and women shout, speculate and humiliate
Your eyes they don't wander but just stick to the ground.
I have been watching you for long, very long.
I saw you when you cooked happily in our kitchen,
I saw you when you hit children and wept quietly.
There is a dungeon you always hid, they said you had a treasure there.
I knew there was nothing, its just amusing for you to lie.

The crowd is getting madder, how come you have nothing to say?
I know you love talking and elaborating.
So much that you'd built castles and sail ships through space.
You told me once that you liked dreaming. Dreaming like a little child.
When I went to your home, they told me stories of your cleverness
They said you had a grandeur, they said you were best of the lot.
You had a kingdom some said, some believed you were an enigma.
Some detested, some loved. But I saw you, all through.

A woman is crying and grabbing you, shaking you and asking questions.
How come you don't answer? She says you loved her and promised.
Though I don't remember the promise, but I remember you spending nights with her.
They say that you had a son. They say you were happy and jovial.
Across the seas you flew and gathered memoirs. Some broke, some got lost.
But you never told me about the son. Did you sent him away?
Or did you go away? I don' seek answers, but you do.
I never loved you, but I always knew you. Like a daughter knows her father.

Oh never I stood before you and asked for a thing.
Never did I ask you to answer that woman nor did I punish you for the son.
But this crowd does. They seek justice. I say I barely know you.
But your eyes are of an old lamb ready to be slaughtered.
Your eyes they move towards me, a glance and I see what you need.
I don't tell them how you harmed me and they don't ask.
But stay still this hour, I want to save you. But what do I do?
This crowd, they want justice.