Saturday, 24 May 2008

It was a film in colour that I saw today
It had pathos, loss, love and grief
It is obscure, neglected, outdated, you say
And your obituary is brief.

The movie wasn't all that sad
Maybe it was me I think
I am sick and tired of trend and fad
I tire of speed and drink.

I tire of rings of smoke and bling
Kitsch, Pop, the occasional fling
With ideas. And then wonder how
I liked those all but I'm tired now.

A soppy film with a Baul track
I cried and howled and blew my nose
This life, what might it lack?
One shrugs and says; who knows?

We often escape the pace of modern life
Wth quick planned trips to hill or beach
Alone, with kids, with friends or wife
To try and dare devour that peach.

I know my enemy lies within
Language is my enemy; word and pen.
Articulation being my only sin
Duality of purpose; indifference of men.

What do you want, the Benign one asks.
A meandering river of the infinite mind
To negotiate distances,unpeel the masks
And then that sunset I'd find.


blink said...

I know my enemy lies within...v.true!..liked it!

Anonymous said...

Who would have thought that a Tapas Pal film would have elicited such a response?

ahona said...

I agree, and Sandhya Roy too. And Papiya Adhikary. And Anup Kumar. And Debasree Roy. And Soumitra (he's in everything)... and also, Utpal Dutt. and that funny villain sort Biplab Chatterjee.
The film was wonderful though. I wonder who directed it. It's got the Tarun Majumdar feel, but it surpasses Tarun Majumdar on an everage day.

ahona said...

The point is Bengali village/mufassil life is different from what it was even in the 80s. There was this Keshto Jatra sequence where these villagers wanted something more modern than a Keshto Jatra,and a violinist who had played for 40 years was stoned by a dissatisfied and irate audience. So contemporary films capitalize on the gaping urban/rural divide, borrowing idiotically from Hindi films and making utter chumps of themselves. It's so awful, and so irritating. Forget the Rays,Ghataks and Tapan Sinhas, even the Tarun Majumdars do not happen any more. Sorry aantel sods like Rituparno Ghosh and Budhhadev Dasgupta make bad adaptations. Look at Uttara (*snores*) and look at Chokher Bali. And think how Tapan Sinha and Tarun Majumdar adapted literary texts. The point is:Bengalis like Ghosh and Dasgupta have no feel for Bengali-hood or Bengali-ness. They are mindlessly aantel. They suck.The only movie that Ghosh made which was reasonably decent was Dahan. Bengali Cinema is Dead. That's all.

soumik said...

Oh this started so lovely!

Got lost on its way somewhere :(

WHAT'S IN A NAME ? said...

Excellent poem. But what was that film ?

ahona said...

@what's in a name- agomon. ever seen it? ektu OTT at times, kintu hebbe,hebbe,hebbe! it beats tapas-debasree Bhalobasa Bhalobasa hollow!

WHAT'S IN A NAME ? said...

:P sujog pelei dekeh nebo!

rr a trier. no poet!

thanku nonetheless!

Baudolino said...

What enemy is that which doesn't lie within?

Baudolino said...

Though it seems quite irrelevant to reflect theoretically on a poem like this--a poem that implies an escape from theory--this poem, in my opinion, possesses an unusual virtue, something which aalaMkaarika-s of classical India used to call 'artha-gaurava' or semantic grandeur. Thus, this comment.

Ahonaa presents an insight into the nature of our experience of art. The art of literature, in particular, employs a device we all are acquainted with: language.Yet, at the same time, the norms which govern language repress this very art. Hence, we try to discover a place within language which is unconquered by language itself. It seems as if there are two faces of language: one of them is circumcribed by use, by pure and practical reason; the other lies beyond reason, subordinate only to the dictates of bhaava, of rasa.That is possibly why we have two varieties of linguistic truth. Remember Tagore, the distinction he makes between bostushotto and rosher shotto! Is the latter an inner part of language exteriorized by art? A linguistic state of exception, if I, like the aantels whom Ahonaa detests, may risk an allusion to Agamben? Almost, taai naa?

ahona said...

High up in the sky
The stars shine down
in weird constellations

The wheel of fortune turns.

And you ask
which enemy does not lie within?

Circumstances, dear Baudolino. The Great Invisible. Etcetera.

ahona said...

"A linguistic state of exception, if I, like the aantels whom Ahonaa detests, may risk an allusion to Agamben? Almost, taai naa?"

Yessir, certainly.

hingshuti said...

Ahonaa Ahonaa Ahonaa
that's a poached egg not an omelette.
You have insulted egg.

ahona said...

Have you ever heard of a French Poached Egg? How does it sound?
Awful and oxymoronic and moronic too. Then again, is an omelette always an omelette?
These questions pertain to the egg, and the egg, as well know, is forever a matter of great contention (just ask the chicken).

P.S.-I merely seek to have a questioning mind.

Royal Bengal Tigress said...

Feels very un-clever and wit-less after the read so declines to say anything of asuumed importance.

mojo said...

ei baudolino ki ebaar theke protyek taa post e ei korbe? ei maal ta ke tara...ekkhuni....

Baudolino said...

'Aagomon' is a 1988 film directed by Tarun Majumdar.Aar, ke taaraabe aamaaye?

ahona said...

Yay!You found out! You are a darling, I swear.

ahona said...

Ohe MojoJojo- okey taraley toh
Exit Artemidorus. A bit wordy, but mostly alright.