Watching Vivah........

I am a bit undecided on how and what to write about Vivah, the movie that I watched just now. I want to write, or rather scream so many things, but I am still under its sway, so might be words won't just suffice.As the initial words would have made it clear, I am simply blown over by this movie right now, and it takes some doing when you kinda scribble these stuff at 3 o' clock in the night. OK, enough of my excitement!
Coming back to the movie, Vivah, for me, isn't just a narration about a marriage ceremony or a story of two young people tying their nuptial ties amidst a chiaroscuro of incidents going around.It is far more developed with every shot dripping those inexplicable only-to-be-felt sensations. It isn't real , to be very honest, as you will hardly find a similar that-good backdrop in the contemporary world. But its reality lies here only that we actually want our life to be that real and pure as shown in the movie. It is essentially a celebration of goodness, that thing which we sorely lack in our society now.
To sing its hosannas just on the fact that it is very traditional in nature and doesn't have any cosmopolitan allure will be doing a grave injustice to its sincerity. It is good because it is true to what it wants to say. In this world, people don't become good because of anything other than their heart. And if it is pure, there can hardly be a situation which can faze anyone. The lead characters here, Shahid and Amrita , had the same pure love which battled any other impediment. You have to look through their eyes the whole scenario to feel their twinges, be it the goosebumps of Shahid when first seeing his would-be bride or the eagerness of Amrita while waiting for her hero. The whole backdrop of marriage scenes are truly redolent of the actual scenes in our family. I, living so away from home, can still share the chirps going around while sleeping on mattresses on the floor or relishing the jalebis at a local corner shop.
Those are the days we wish never go. So if a movie comes, which bring a refreshingly homely feel-good twinge to our hearts, it is just lovely. It was so low on hype scale, that it had almost missed my notice. But I place it right after LRM and RDB in year 2006. I know many might squirm at this much lavish praise showered on it, but who cares when after so many days, you feel synonymity with your inner self which wants to be as good and pure as our very basic life settings are.

Shame on me and us

I was to write this post with the same first half of the title after the World Cup cricket matches yesterday, but the recent developments forced me to change it to insinuate it at everyone. Bol Woolmer died of heart attack after being under extreme pressure over the first round exit of Pakistan team. It is still to sink in but it shows how hollow our passion related to this game is.
Nothing can be bigger than the game, but not the life of men truly dedicated to it. Then who are we, many of us who never wielded the cricket bat or threw ourselves on the field, to force our opinion on their commitment, or express our wrath on them.
Every nation's citizens are extremely passionate about one of their games and want the players to win at any cost. It is within their rights but it crosses the boundary when they start identifying every move of theirs with the team's. Why, who told we guys to relate our every dream to theirs, when we are not even an iota connected to them. Don't we have our own dreams to fulfill, and our own areas to excel in? Getting a Nobel Prize in Literature is as big a achievement as winning the World Cup. So, why put our everything on this game of cricket?Burning effigies of the players doesn't do them any harm, rather show our ineptitude. Tendulkars, Dravids and Kumbles have done more than these combined multitude of senseless people.
Shame on us. It is from we only that the team becomes. I have seen teams changing, but performances remaining same, because the guys playing there are from amongst us only, some of them who sit back when even something minimal is achieved, and attainment of excellence is subsequently booted out. The team gets a high-falutin coverage on even a small win and then the next day, when it loses, it is thrown into dustbin. Neither the team performs nor the fans.
It all then gets in this vicious cycle of derogatory denigration and farcical encomiums.
Let us get away from this, when this is so senseless. Let's savour the beauty of life not looked into by us till now. Let's celebrate Viswanathan Anand becoming the World Number 1 as much as a Sachin Tendulkar's century. Then only we will do justice to both, we and the players.