Once upon a time Maya decided to blog for the Kalaghoda festival. She said she’ll try to blog as much as possible like she did the year before. But Maya’s bosses and her work put the noose around her keyboard to drag it before she could write about Kalaghoda. Oh Sorry! Wrong chronology. They just dumped tons of work on her desk…top…to ensure that she could not go to the festival and then put the noose on her keyboard. What more the TriContinental film festival made sure its last two exciting days clashed with Maya’s first free weekend after ages, preventing her from going to the first two days KG as well. So defying all the bosses and all attractive film festivals of the world (well after 7 pm), Maya walks into Kalaghoda on Sunday at 9:25pm and decides to write about it the next day. But as usual, the devil (boss) wears Prada from Bandra and prevents her from writing. So here she is on a Saturday evening trying to finish her first piece for KG but not able to do so as she has to go to KG today for Caferati. With a mixture of wow and sigh, she gets up and decides to call it a day. “See you on the next post,” she says and lives unhappily ever after. Neighh…

Surprisingly, no word on the Caferati evening as yet.

It was simply delightful. This experimental session saw Theatre Watch, a theatre group from Bombay, do on-the-spot improvisations using (piano, violin) and art (painting) on prose, poetry and lyrics by Caferati members.

The evening started with the announcement of the winners of the Flash Fiction and SMS poetry contests. Peter has already given an update on that.

Next, Manisha Lakhe, one of caferati’s moderators, introduced the concept of this online writing forum to the audience.

Then the first of the Theatre Watch improvisation interludes commenced. Vivin Mathew Easo of Theatre Watch directed and moderated these sessions.

Peter gave (prophetically) this supposed schedule.

Theatre Watch was given a bunch of original writing by Caferati members, and Viv and his performers have chosen a few pieces which inspire them. So you will get to experience Ivan John on the piano, interpreting three poems, Jitendra Jawda on the violin, working with two poems and a short story, and Swaroop Biswas, who has chosen a short story, which he will use as his inspiration for a painting which he will execute live, while the other readings and performances are on. Vivin may also choose a piece, which he will use as the base for a solo theatre performance.

The session strictly followed this format. Ivan John interpreted three poems: Arjun Bali’s Treadmill, Priyanka Joseph’s Scribbled On A Paper Napkin and Manisha Lakhe’s villanelle, At The Mall. The poems were first read (Arjun and Manisha read their own work while Priyanka’s was read by Vivin) and then Ivan interpreted them via his .

As Vivin went about interacting with the audience about their comments on the performance and interpretation, the trickle of comments soon became a steady flow. Some people felt that Ivan’s interpretation of the first and last poems were good, but his improvisation on the Priyanka’s poem was calm, though the poem was a disturbing one. One audience member thought the piano performances were too long. Jane Bhandari seconded that. They said that he should have had pauses. In response, Ivan said that he had very little by the way of discovering what the respective poets were trying to say, so he interpreted it by expressing his own emotions at reading the work. So, according to him, Priyanka’s poem was filled with confusion, and he, by his piece, tried to infuse a sense of calm into it.

It was followed by Pawan Sony reading out his satirical short story, Shaking Hands.

Theatre Watch took stage again, with Jitendra Jawda on the violin. He interpreted a poem by Nisha Alex, But, lyrics to a song by Peter Griffin called Blues for X, and a 55er by Peter called Succumb. As for the audience, everyone liked the interpretation of Succumb. Yati Doshi liked all of Jitendra’s improvisations a lot.

This was interspersed by a series of poems read by Caferati members including Manisha Lakhe, Pallavi Jayakar ‘I love You..but’

etc. Caferati then introduced their forthcoming book, scheduled to come out by the end of next month, Stories at the Coffee Table, which features the winners in a nation-wide short fiction contest they hosted last year. Some winners read their work including Anita Vasudeva and Albert Barton.

In the limited time frame awarded to him, Swaroop Biswas finished his interpretation of Sajjad Khan’s (a writer from Pakistan, who is on board at Caferati) short story, in the form of a painting. Swaroop, a painter, a manager and an actor had painted a woman with flowing dark hair which encapsulated a man’s face with a crown and a small white space above her shoulder which held the silhouette of a man. He said, “I have tried to show that the woman hold the power on both men. Her long dark hair ties both of them in some bond. The man’s crown states that he is the master of his thoughts. The silhouette of a man in the doorway symbolizes a space of a man in the past or the possibility of his larger role in near future. Finally, the exaggerated eyes symbolize a look of (forgot the word)”

He generously proceeded to give the painting up for auction and the funds would go towards the maintenance of Caferati. In the end, a few friendly comments were passed on certain works not being read due to lack of time. Most of the Caferati members then proceeded towards the main Kala Ghoda display area to savour the last dregs of the festival, and inhale the smells of a memory that would hopefully be refreshed next year.

Adieu!

---

Comments

Comment by Priyanka Joseph on February 16, 2006 @ 4:29 am

The phrase that is uppermost in my mind-

Wish I was there.

Congratulations to the organizers, winners and participants. May caferati leave its fragrant stain on every consciousness, for as long as we love coffee and words.

P.

Comment by Jane Bhandari on February 16, 2006 @ 7:36 am

I think we are all recovering from nine hectic days!
I thoroughly enjoyed the Caferati evening. More, please! Not just for Kala Ghoda! There was variety in the poetry, and the way it was presented. Performance poetry would be a good way of presenting poetry at schools and colleges, more interesting than a straight reading.
The picture of the puppies, by the way, reminded me of the Sassoon Library cats - a rather pregnant female was present for most of the poetry readings. A real literary cat!

Comment by John Matthew on February 16, 2006 @ 11:36 am

Hi

Thanks! Had a great time too.

John

Comment by Akshaya on February 16, 2006 @ 12:47 pm

With all due respect to the organizing team, people who did the hard work - those who read their works and those who performed the and painting business, I found it a really disappointing effort.

The quality of works selected was extremely poor and definitely not representative of even Caferati standards. The interpretations by ‘Theatre Watch’ were quite avoidable and it was not easy on my nerves to sit through the entire evening.

Oh yes, I also found the Flash Fiction outcome very mediocre. SMS poetry though, came out with a few remarkable entries.

For some strange reason, I expected a much better show from Caferati. I thought the overall effort was substandard and not much sincerity was shown either towards writing nor towards making the evening a bright literary experince. To sum it up, it was tragic for me.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

Cinema Finale.
I promised myself that I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. It was Cinema Finale with four previously unscreened documentaries being screened by four women directors. But I did miss it (@#%&*).well, at least the first film.

The four films screened were

. Blank Verse by Indrayani Mukherjee
. Rose Mahal by Jenny Pinto

. Call It Slut by Nishtha Jain
. Naamkaran by Konkana Sensharma

I missed Blank Verse (grumble mumble crumble)

I walked into Horniman Circle Garden just as Rose Mahal and the director were being introduced. Rose Mahal is the story of an old house called.well, Rose Mahal, construced in 1933 by the Pinto family in Bangalore. The house is to be pulled down and the author is re-living the last of its memories by holding a huge feast for all her relatives. In the process, she tells Rose Mahal’s story interspersed with her own.and the lessons she learnt in the process. A personal tribute to a home which gave her childhood the spark that would last for a lifetime, Jenny Pinto takes us through past and present as she infuses her current celebration with those of her own celebrated memories. The documentary was at the best, decent. The characters gyrated on your nerves and the dialogues were stilted. A few shots were admirable.like those of Grandma Rose licking away the last of the leftovers with her fingers and the quaint little house dwarfed by monolithic cement brick buildings in the background. In the end, it left the taste of peach iced tea-hot water combination that they were selling at David Sassoon library.you like peach, but you don’t want to have another sip of that delightful flavour with erghhh.hot water!

Call It Slut was the next film. Ah! What can I say? Gorgeous. Nishtha made a film on Lakshmi Tripathi, a hijra. Before you make comic innuendos and turn you noses away, just read this quote by Lakshmi. “The joy of being a woman is that you can wrap yourself in six metres of cloth and still appear naked,” says Lakshmi. Confident, beautiful, graceful, magical, bold, wicked, shocking.that’s Lakshmi for you. “I can’t stand hypocrites,” she says in another scene. “When I met her, I just knew I had to make a film on her,” said Nishtha. I often wondered.how can one make a biographical film on someone who is still alive without offending him/ her or making his/her existence less-celebrated? Nishtha provided the answer-just be honest. The film intersperses Lakshmi’s likes, dislikes, beliefs, ideologies with some lessons in womanhood to Nishtha-a tribute to the beauty of honesty and confession. Lakshmi gives us her opinion on exploitation, the Kamasutra and the government ban on bar girls. “Government did a wonderful thing by banning the dance bars. First, there was one hurdle for the customers wanting to take bar girls to bed.and that was the stage. The government removed this hurdle. Ab yeh stage ko hatake ladki ko sidha bistar pe daal diya,” she critiques. A must watch!

Lastly, Konkana Senharma’s debut feature short film, Naamkaran was a big hit. My Bengali friend had threatened to kill me if he missed this film because of mon late arrival. But Naamkaran was the last to be screened. So all’s well that end’s well. Naamkaran is a film about sibling rivalry in a family of three (two sisters and the handicapped father). They are pick-pocketers by profession. The protagonist is a mother of a toddler and dislikes the ways of her family. Her sister buys gifts for her son with stolen money. The film initially explores the relationship between the two sisters. The elder one wants her younger sister to get a job and work honestly; while the younger want wants her elder sister to start pick-pocketing again. She also wants her sister to name her baby after their father.or at least give him a name that rhymes with their father’s name. Abhijit, Surojit etc. The film takes us though their lives as we discover nuances of the family’s strained relationships, which give a well-rounded logic to the protagonist’s last act of pick-pocketing a man’s wallet on the tram.and eventually naming her baby after him.Abhrojit.a final act which bonds her back to her family.

Ah! If you weren’t there.you missed some beautiful cinema honey.
Now go.run.go take a retail therapy or dessert dive-ins.
I had mine last night.(halo reappears).

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

I was there.at the Mumbai Poetry Live.and boy, it was fabulous! John Agard, Grace Nicholas, Imtiaz Dharkar, Shamshad Khan, Eunice de Souza, Adil Jussawalla, Ranjit Hoskhote, Jerry Pinto, Arundhati Subramaniam, Jerry Pinto, Menka Shivdasani, CP Surendran, Marilyn Noronha, Sampurna Chattarji, Anju Makhija and Revathy Gopal were the poets present. As Jerry pointed out, it was ‘poets in concert’. I can’t say anything else except everyone was absolutely wonderful. If you are going to be there tomorrow at Prithvi to catch a repeat, do not miss Agard, Khan and Dharkar.extremely evocative delivery.

I’m not going to say more.Just read the following and enjoy.

I’m putting down work of just 5 poets.Sorry.I can’t type 16 poems.

—————————–

Captive
Imtiaz Dharkar

You went out the other day,
caught a city like a bird for me,
and put it in a window frame
to amuse me in my captivity

Revisiting the prison door
is risky. Opening it is the start
of a certain madness.
Inside the frame and outside,
separated by it and yet joined,
we watch each other
with no means to hide
how much can we change.

Light passes through our canyons,
skies wheel, traffic moves
across our face,
the face we share, reflected
in each other’s glass

Chance has put us here.
Chance keeps us here,
two willing captives,
the city and I,
given to each other
like a gift.

Don’t open the door too soon.
Among the electric trees,
across a transparent moon
we are spinning fragile monuments
to celebrate ourselves.

We are still here, still alive.

—————————–

Advice to Women
Eunice De Souza

Keep cats
If you want to learn to cope with
the otherness of lovers.
Otherness is not always neglect-
Cats return to their litter trays
when they need to.
Don’t cuss out of the window
at their enemies.
That share of perpetual surprise
in those great green eyes
will teach you
to die alone

—————————–

Half-Caste
John Agard

Excuse me
standing on one leg
I’m half-caste
Explain yuself
wha yu mean
hen yu say half-caste
yu mean Picasso
mix red an green
is a half-caste canvas/
explain yuself
wha yu mean
when you say half-caste
yu mean life an shadow
mix in de sky
is a half-caste weather/
well in dat case
england weather
nearly always half-caste
infact some o dem cloud
half-caste till em overcase
so spiteful den don’t want de sun pass
ah rass/
explain yuself
wha yu mean
when yu say half-caste
yu mean tchaikovsky
sit down at dah pian
an mix a black key
wid a white key
is a half-caste symphony/
Explain yuself
wha yu mean
Ah listening to you wid de keen
half of mih ear
Ah lookin at yu wid de keen
half of mih eye
and when I’m introduced to yu
I’m sure you’ll
understand
why I offer yu half-a-hand
an when I sleep at night
I close half-a-eye
consequently when I dream
I dream half-a-dream
an when moon begin to glow
I half-caste human being
cast half-a-shadow
but yu must come back tomorrow wid de whole of yu eye
an de whole of yu mind
an I will tell yu
de other half
of my story

—————————–

Window
Jerry Pinto

What can you do with a window?
It will always remain four-cornered
Always be a savagery to the sky
Always offer enough room for only one head
Or one cloud

There’s nothing open about a window

—————————–

Love Over Eating and Over hearing
Shamshad Khan

you taste food in the same way you listen to

with reverent ecstasy
tasting each cadence in sound. Separating layers of rhythm
savour slithers of melting melody
whilst hearing salt grind
in the unexpected sweet refrain
held a6t the back of your throat
the deepest base
touches the tip of your tongue
so sourness sings
its sharp twist
to curdle drums

you peel a piano concentrating on keeping the spiral
flavour spins the radio dial
blur of colliding in your headphones

in the wet street a woman and a man argue about
who should have rung who

on rainy days I am told everything tastes like .

—————————–

Shamshad’s voice was ‘orgasmic’ as a friend put it. He’s going today again to catch her performance.

For all those who missed, it’s on at Prithvi theatre tomorrow Feb 12, 2006.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

After yesterday’s movies, I decided to catch some live events today. So I got off work and came straight to KG. As indecisive as I am, I couldn’t decide which event to go for.the Folk Dance Extravaganza by Indumati Lele or Beats n Bars & Air guitars, film screening.

Hmm.hmmmmmm.hmmmmmmmm.
The beckoned.Folk Dance it is.

They had already finished with the first dance. I walked in during the second performance. There was a huge crowd at MC Ghia Hall, opposite Rampart Row. People were standing atop chairs and every other conceivable area that would provide easy and uninterrupted viewing of the performance. I almost gave up. But I saw this small space at the back and I managed to squeeze in and found a vantage position to view the dance.a handycam. Believe me. I saw 89% of the rest of the show on the display screen of this gora’s handycam. In between, with the heads moving in rhythm, I managed to see a bit here and there.
The dances were:
1) Natwa Nrutya
2) Lezim Nrutya (Maharashtra)
The Lezim dance, a male performance, combines beautifully physical exercise and dancing. Done with a Lezim or a small mallet, it is a fascinating dance performed in the formation of a circle, in twos or fours. The accompanying instruments are the drums. It involves a lot of stepping, hopping, bending, squatting, etc. to the perfect timing of the strikes of the Lezim. A large group of boys and girls doing Lezim dance presents a beautiful sight while the Lezims strike rhythmically in perfect unison.
3) Chirmi Nrutya (Rajasthan)

This dance was amazing. Chirmi is tree which is worshipped in Rjasthan. Women dance with an arrangement of pots and a lighted lamp balanced on their heads.
4) Garbi Nrutya (Gujarat)
Originally men use to perform this dance. This is performed on the eve of Navratri and is dedicated to Goddess Kali. During Navaratri, all women get together and one woman sings this song and others dance. Then all women sing this song again in the second round and dance together.
5) Kashmiri Nrutya (Kashmir)
I saw, I heard and I thought.this is where Mission Kashmir got it from. Mission Kashmir’s Bhoomroo had borrowed the strains of and dance steps from this original form.
6) Koli Nrutya (Maharashtra)
This dance got the loudest cheers and wolf whistles. Hmmm.I wonder why.? The dance derives its name from the fisher folk of Maharashtra-Kolis, who are noted for their distinct identity and lively dances. Their dances incorporate elements they are most familiar with-the sea and their occupation of fishing. The dance is performed by both men and women-divided into two groups. The smaller group of men and women, in pairs, enact the main story of the dance-where the Kolin or fisherwoman makes advances to the Koli or fisherman. The larger group, also in pairs, forms the backdrop for the story, dancing in a looped movement that depicts the rowing of a fishing boat on undulating waves.

7) Chapeli Nrutya (Uttaranchal)
It is a very famous and fast dance of Kumaun. The theme of the dance is love and it is very romantic. Both men and women participate in this dance and the costume is very colourful. (Goriya manwa tu humra kehna.)
8) Ramleela
Need I say more? Story telling dominated this dance with beautiful movements. And the audience departed happily.

Some thoughts were running through my head constantly. While most of the dances that were being introduced, the host constantly repeated words like ‘business’ and ‘religion’. Undoubtedly, art has been forever influenced by religion and business. Dances were performed to celebrate the onset of a season. Gods were worshipped in hope of garnering a fruitful and prosperous year ahead. Business became a religion. Initially, I couldn’t place my finger on the high points of the dances. But as the performances were enhanced by vigour and expression, realisation slid in.the turnarounds, vigourous drum beats, the fast steps, the lull and then the storm. It was spectacular!

Indumati Lele, whose troupe performed a total of eight dances this evening, thanked her group of 50 dancers from all over the city, including college students and housewives.

It was 9.and I was still oscillating between two destinations.home? Or Stand Up comedy by plus 2 productions at David Sassoon Garden? I thought I’d drop in for the Stand up routine. At the DS garden, I encountered the last dregs of Beats n Bars & Air guitars, film screening.

I walked in half way through the screening of a documentary on a contest between three hip-hop artists. It was directed by Dami Akinnsas. The documentary was eclipsed by a fight between two audience members. Apparently, one had coughed into the ear of the guy sitting ahead of him, and refused to say sorry. As they were arguing, many others asked them to not disrupt the screening and take the fight out. To quell the battle of words, one of them answered the other’s objections with just one word.Shut up!
Here is an excerpt:
Guy1: You mind your language
Guy 2: Shut up
1: Behave yourself, I didn’t.
2: Shut up
1: Just watch the movie.
2: Shut up
1: You.

2: Shut up
1: Shut up man
2: Shut up
1: Damn.
2: Shut up
2: Shut up
2: Shut up
2: Shut up

And then, the first guy gave up. Peace prevailed.Oh Shut up.there’s more

The last movie was good. ‘Holly Bolly’ was directed by, Dil Rehman and Obi. It was a story of two guys, an Indian and a Black, who were trying to garner funds to make a film. Their ideas are constantly rejected by various funding boards, who want a film on the lines of the one made by another lesbian director. Eventually, they find a financer who wants them to make a film on ethnic characters. So the Indian, Dil, thinks of a concept where four Asians are about to be killed by a gang of British mafia. The financer doesn’t like it and tells them that the white man is always the hero. Eventually, the British mafia leader actually speaks in an Indian accent and the film is completed. The movie, gets nominated for the award, but fails to win. The award, yet again, goes to the lesbian director for ‘Angela and Betty’.

The movie is side-splitting, as the directors show how filmmakers have to bow down to the financers’ understanding of the market. The financer’s whims and fancies are interspersed with the enactment of the same scene over and over again.albeit with his changes. So the Asian heroes are replaced by the white men. The villain’s threatening dialogues are changed constantly.once in the Brit accent, then in the Indian accent, then he relays his dialogues in a sufi song, then via a bhangra number. It’s absolutely hilarious!

The directors have effectively brought out how the popularity of ethnicity is nothing but a joke.and a modus operandi for the financers cash in on its popularity. It’s a classic satire on the entire ABCD film culture.

9:30 pm.still half an hour to wait. Nah! Home calling.
While I was trying to hail a cab, two other girls, who saw the films, discussed about how the films overall were average, with the exception of the last two. “I think the last two films were the best,” one of them said.

:)

I could feel the halo on my head as I went back home.

---

Comments

Comment by kate on February 11, 2006 @ 2:45 pm

Hey,
I was at the short film screening too- guy 2 really was a bit of a dramaqueen.

Especially when he nearly fell over the bench when he stood on it.

Oh well. Atleast they re-played the bit we missed. :)

Though I do think you missed the rendition of Stairway to Heaven, sung backwards, and played in reverse. Quite something. I suppose that was where the ‘air guitars’ in the title came from.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

I took half day off work. I wanted to watch Thelma and Louise (T & L).Some like it hot was supposed to be a bonus.

So I walked in 12 minutes late for T & L, found my self a chair in the darkened Cama hall, and settled down to watch the master piece starring Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis. Directed by Ridley Scott and written by Callie Khouri, the movie explores the story of two women, Thelma Dickinson (Geena Davis) and Louise Sawyer (Susan Sarandon). Thelma is married to Daryl, a restaurant owner, who is as dominating likes his wife to stay quiet in the kitchen so that he can watch football on TV. Louise, on the other hand, works in a fast food restaurant as a waitress and has some problems with her friend Jimmy, who, as a musician, is always on the road. One day they decide to break out of their normal life and jump in the car and hit the road. Their journey, however, turns into a flight when Louise kills a man who threatens to rape Thelma. They decide to go to Mexico, but soon they are hunted by American police. Along the way, both women rediscover the strength of their friendship and surprising aspects of their personalities and self-strengths in the trying times. (Source: www.imdb.com)

Seven scenes before the movie gets over, there is some technical problem. Damn yam.Grumble mumble.Shit wit.Nit pick.Yawn gone.

Ah, the movie is back.5 scenes from the end.

If plotted on a graph, the T & L starts with a smooth concrete road ride and then moves on from a long jump leap, to kung-fu walking in the air move, to a superman flight. The build up is fabulous. Add to that, fantastic performances by Davis and Sarandon. The back ground score is awesome. “These girls are not the killing type,” says the waitress to the cop. Chilling.what can one incident do you? How can a harmless weekend getaway turn a monotonous existence to a monolithic adventure? Add to that, the blade-edge twists and turns of both the characters. Thelma’s submissiveness, encouraged by Louise’s ‘you-have-a-louse-for-a-husband’ talks, rages into a one night stand (Brad Pitt), armed robbery and eventual drive over the edge of the mountain. As the film lurches toward its lacerating climax, there are many conflicting feelings about Thelma and Louise: Whatcha-gotten-into-em??? When did they turn from women to bitches? Are they feminist martyrs or bitches from hell?

They are nothing but women.each marred by the transformation of a young dream to a tedious existence. They are nothing but women, who are not angry at the transformation because they don’t know that they should be angry.we do. They are not even vengeful.they just slide and stream into events, and enjoy the ride till the end.like most of us don’t. An iconic end redeems both.the protagonists and the audience.

Some like It Hot
This 1959 classic starring Marilyn Monroe as Sugar Kane Kowalczyk, Tony Curtis as Joe (’Josephine’/'Junior’) and Jack Lemmon as Jerry (’Daphne’) is a story of two musicians, a saxophonist and a bass player who witness a murder committed by the mob/ mafia and are on the run to save their lives. In the process they enlist themselves in an all-girl’s band and impersonate as women (who are a tad large-boned) as a camouflage mechanism. In addition to hiding, each has his own problems; one falls for another band member but can’t tell her his gender, and the other has a rich suitor who will not take “No,” for an answer. As usual, Bollywood got inspired by this movie and in 1974, Rafoo Chakar was made starring Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh.

Being born in an era, which forced me to see the Bollywood version before the original; I found obvious similarities which dimmed the potential enjoyment that I would have derived from the film. Nonetheless, the dialogues saved the day.

Some gems.

Jerry: Have I got things to tell you!
Joe: What happened?

Jerry: I’m engaged.
Joe: Congratulations. Who’s the lucky girl?
Jerry: I am!
—-X—-

Jerry: Will you look at that! Look how she moves! It’s like Jell-O on springs. Must have some sort of built-in motor or something. I tell you, it’s a whole different sex!
—-X—-

Sugar: Water polo? Isn’t that terribly dangerous?
Junior: I’ll say. I had two ponies drowned under me.
—-X—-

Osgood: Right now, she
[his mother]
Osgood: thinks I’m out there on my yacht - deep sea fishing!
Daphne: Well, pull in your reel, Mr. Fielding, you’re barking up the wrong fish!
—-X—-

Sweet Sue: Are you two from the Poliakoff agency?
Joe: Yes, we’re the new girls.
Daphne: Brand new!

Apparently, Marilyn had a miscarriage during this film. In view of that, she acted remarkably well. Directed by Billy Wilder, ‘Some Like It Hot’ is a pleasure to watch.

Some Trivia.. A preview audience laughed so hard in the scene where Jack Lemmon announces his engagement that a lot of the dialogue was missed. It had to be re-shot with pauses (and the maraca gimmick) added.

. Colombo (George Raft) sees one of Bonaparte’s henchmen flipping a coin, and asks “Where did you pick up that cheap trick?” In Scarface (1932), Raft played a mafia henchman who is remembered for the fact that he kept flipping a coin.

. While watching the rushes of the famous kissing scene on the yacht, Tony Curtis told those assembled that kissing Marilyn Monroe was “like kissing Hitler” (to which Monroe replied to Life magazine in 1962: “I think that’s his problem.”) He has subsequently denied that, and claimed that she deliberately teased him by grinding her body against his until he was aroused, and then stop (Monroe told Life that, since Curtis was so negative to her, she imagined she was with someone else instead of him.) He has also claimed the two had an affair during filming. (trivia and dialogues; Source: www.imdb.com)

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

Travails of work cost me my Literature class. So here I was at 6:30pm, outside my office deciding what events to catch at the Kalaghoda festival. More curses were uttered in my head as I realised I’m going to miss the 7′o Clock movie at Cama.

Masking the disappointment with the hope of at least grabbing a good bite, I head to Churchgate. Reached Kalaghoda at 7:24pm. Just as I’m about to reach, I get an SMS from a male friend saying, ‘Dude, the whole place looks so pretty!’.
Huh? Pretty?.my male friend? Huh?

The first thing I encounter is this kid discarding a toffee wrapper on the ground. The environmentalist in me spoke. “Oi.don’t do that.” With the toffee tucked into mouth, he gives me half a smile and runs away. Evil Child. Grrrr.More silent curses. His mom comes back, makes him pick up the wrapper and throw it in the dustbin. She gives me the same half smile. Now I know where that brat gets it from. Yippie.Long live the Revolution!

Enough of ze rant, now let’s get down to the meat. Kalaghoda on the first day was vibrant.and fabulous. I had a lot of conversations.with the crowd. Here is an excerpt.
Crowd: Psst.hey, come here
Me: huh.me?
Crowd: Yeah you; you frustrated soul
Me: excuse me?
C: No you are not. Here check out these pani-puris
Me: How rude (but I go nonetheless)

After devouring the golgappas, I just stroll around.

Here are a few things you shouldn’t miss.

1) The design for crow
As you come out of MMB, it is on your right.good stuff.
2) All the stuff put up outside Jehangir.right from the Bollywood paraphernalia; to traditional morph artwork; to children drawings; to the sketching guy (he’s really good); to the wiremaker; and the mint lollypop maker (this guy completely rocks.check the pictures).
3) The movies
4) The Akanksha stall.
5) Oh God.there is so much more.just go.run.

Here is where Mr C disturbed me again.

C: The puppet show girl.
Me: let me be.
C: You wish! Now come on, don’t feel shy
Me: (grumble mumble)

The sight mesmerised me.the crowd luckily pulled me to watch the last bit of a dance performance by Nrita Rutya the contemporary dance group from Bangalore.the secret life of Puppets was fantastic. But there was more.

I was left speechless by the absolute silence maintained by children around me during this performance. A year-old-baby is his mother’s arms was dancing up and down on her lap during the performance, another seated on her father’s shoulder was clapping; a third was standing at the iron structure next where the projector was kept way behind.her mouth was voluntarily prised open by the horizontal support of at least three inches in diameter, so engrossed was she in the performance that she was actually licking that rod.

Whoa!!!

I got out and moved towards the candyflosswalla.and took a huge pink fluff, moved around a bit more and then walked towards the station.

During the ride back home, I encountered a bunch of women dancing and singing to ‘Salame Ishq meri jaan’ and ‘Kajara Re’. Boy what an evening.

My Serendipity:
Talk about embedding fashion sense into children from early on. This child in her mother’s arms (not more than 18 months) had her hair styled to a short a bob cut.but.but.but.she was sporting one long strand of hair from the base of her neck right down to her shoulder blade. :O She was not more than 18 months. ‘Hair’angue her mother I say.Grrrrr

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Maya

“I was a revolutionary who lost his ideals in heroin, a philosopher who lost his integrity in crime, and a poet who lost his soul in a maximum-security prison. When I escaped from that prison, over the front wall, between two gun-towers, I became my country’s most wanted man.
Luck ran with me and flew with me across the world to India, where I set up and ran a free clinic in a crowded Bombay slum. I joined the Bombay mafia, and worked as a gunrunner, a smuggler, and a counterfeiter. I was chained on three continents, beaten, stabbed, and starved. I went to war. I ran into the enemy guns. And when those wilderness years of hunted exile came to an end, when I changed my life, when I stopped running onto the knives and started running into the light of love instead, I wrote the novel, Shantaram, that was based on my wild and wicked life.”
-Gregory David Roberts, author of Shantaram

I never believed in Forrest Gump’s line ‘Life is box of chocolates, you never know what you get’.until I read Gregory David Roberts’ Shantaram. What I read, left me speechless. So when I heard that he is going to be talking to Dolly Thakore at Kalaghoda, I decided I’m not going to miss it.

When I entered, I found at least 150-250 people squeezed in that tiny David Sassoon garden. Whom did I first see? A tall, broad, gentle-looking man with long, straight blonde hair-Greg Roberts. I hopped to where he was and got my copy signed.

Yippie.

The discussion started.Dolly Thakore (Gudiya) introduced him impressively, but I wished she had kept it short. Then, she proceeded to ask him questions.

When Greg was caught by the Interpol in Germany, he was kept in a maximum security prison along with the most famous criminals from all over the world. By now he had made a habit out of escaping from prisons.and this was no different. So in the midst of the most dangerous criminals and political prisoners from all over the world, Greg asked if they had seen any Steve McQueen movies about escaping from prisons. “We are not going to escape. We are political prisoners. We would take every bullet like a martyr,” one of them said. To which Greg said that he wanted to escape. “Oh! You want to escape. You should have told us. We’ll help you,” they said.

Greg continued, “Maximum security prison. Every conceivable barricade. No one could think of escaping from there. But here I was with 100 most wanted criminals from all over the world, who would probably give their lives to help me escape. I had planned everything out. I was taken every fortnight to the prosecutor’s office and he used to repeatedly ask me if I wanted to go to the Australian prison, and that I would be treated better there. I said I wasn’t interested.”
He went on to talk about his possible escape strategy that he had devised and he abandoned it. He had this vision, where he saw the police officers going to see his mother to tell her that he escaped again. “I saw my mother falling backwards and I suddenly felt I couldn’t do this to my her again. For the first time in my life, I decided to someone else’s interests before mine. I decided not to escape.”

Instead of escaping again from this prison, he decided to spend his time and walk a free man after his sentence. “From that day onwards, I gave up smoking, doing drugs, drinking, or crime.everything.”

And that’s where Gudiya interrupts.

Gudiya: Are you for real?

Audience reaction: a look of absolute disbelief one every one’s face except Greg.probably his politeness prevented him from giving her ‘the look’.
Gudiya: I mean you say you have done all these things, have you really done all these things.drugs, alcohol
Greg: everybody does drugs in prisons. Everybody smokes hashish in prisons.
Audience reaction: more disbelief with a few mutterings at her inept questions. Greg continues with his narration of her experiences.
Gudiya: Did they torture you in some way in the German prison?

Greg: (very patiently) It was the torture of neglect.
Gudiya: Was the food good.?
Audience reaction: before Greg could say anything, the mutterings grew louder and she stopped with her silly meanderings.and apologized and let Greg continue.

Some snatches of gems from his speech:

Prison.

“One of the ways I survived in the prison was by imposing a greater discipline on my self than the discipline that the system imposed on me. If the system said, I had to be up and ready at 7am and stand next to my door, I used to be ready at 6am.”

“There are two key qualities you have to develop if you have to survive in prison: one, courage and second, integrity.”

“In prison, once with your courage and integrity, you earn you respect, you keep it. In the street, you have to earn your respect everyday.”

“Men get out of prison and they know that they aren’t forgiven. And when you are unforgiven, you become unforgiving. We need to have a mechanism in our political system that says, alright, you’ve messed up, we are going to treat you very roughly, and we are going to imprison you. But we give you this chance to earn our forgiveness. We’ll forgive you and take you back to the community. You mess up again; we are going to bring you down as hard. That is the key to getting back into the community and the key to not do it again.”

“Solitary confinement is the worst thing anybody can do.it’s the worst torture. By nature, human beings need companionship. You keep them away from company, they will lose it. Statistics prove that 8 out of ten men, who were in solitary confinement, commit a murder after they come out. So these prison guys know what they are doing. They are not torturing unknowingly.”

“Anger comes from the inability to forgive.”

“I’ve seen that art survives torture. In Afghanistan, musicians went in and came out with their humanity intact. These guys sang and played every night. I’ve been in prisons in three continents, and it’s the musicians, the writers, the painters who survive the prisons with their humanity intact. If you can find a way to transform what’s happening to you into something else, that is the key. Second, love. If you have someone you love, it will see you through. I have seen that most of the men ,who were brutalized in there didn’t have someone to love in their lives. For me, my mother’s loved saved me. Third is self discipline. You impose a regime on yourself and say, that’s me. I’m controlling my life, not they.”

“In Australia, I was in solitary confinement for two whole years. Meditation helped me survive. I even taught mediation techniques to other men, whom I could not see, but we used to talk through the walls.”

Here Gudiya interrupts again.

Gudiya: You’ve been talking to us about forgiveness etc.Was this path learnt in India?

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

In Bombay.

“I get many people coming to India, who want to meet me because they have read the book. I’m hanging out at Leo’s, so they come to Leo’s to meet me. So I meet them and ask them where they are going. They are here to go to ashrams all around the country. I think that’s a wonderful thing. I never went to the ashrams through their front doors. I used to go through the back door, where the monks are sitting and smoking, playing cards and doing black market deals for the gold people give them. The goras who were coming from the front door were overwhelmed with spiritual love, and were giving them their money and gold rings, bracelets, necklaces. And at the back door, the monks are selling it to us weighing it by the gram. They are very good at judging weather its 14 carats, 18 carats or 22 carats gold. And they drive a hard bargain.I dunno, these folks have, probably heaven on their sides.”

“When I was in Arthur Road Jail, I got one of the key insights into life. I was face up the first time I was being tortured and beaten by people. I was looking up the men who were beating me and I was defying them and staring up at them and thinking, ‘I’ll get back at you. I’ll get you.’ The second time I was being tortured, I was much weaker; I weighed only 50 kilos. I was face down and I couldn’t see them. There was this moment when I felt that I was actually out of my body. Now I don’t mean this to be an out of body experience. I think it was more like a writer’s artistic vision of what was going on. But I felt that I was outside and I could see what was happening and the men who were hitting me. It happened then. They took a break from the beating, I mean they too get tired, you know. So they took a break to have some chai and beedis. They were away and there was this guy who was one of the men beating me, came over, pulled my head around and put the beedi between my lips and held it there for me to take a couple of drags. And I really needed that cigarette. Afterwards, when the other guys came and saw him doing this, they teased him. After they resumed their beating, this guy beat me harder than the other guys did. That’s what hit me.this guy showed me the fracture in the otherwise monolithic, unbreakable edifice of their torture. They allowed me to see the humanity around it. He showed me that, even this guy who was torturing and beating me, he really didn’t wanna do this. He was caught up in what was going on it like the rest of them. And I knew that none of them were free to not do it.to stop torturing me.to put the lathi down and say, I’m not going to do this. They were trapped in the walls of their brains, all of them were. But I was free. I was free to hate them.or to forgive them. I realised that I was the only man in the room who was free. To me the key link was.understanding what they were doing, understanding that they had no choice and seeing it. Understanding this was the key to forgiving.”

“I’ve started a ‘Shantaram’ charitable trust here. And we are doing a number of things at the village where I got my name-Shantaram. We have already built the first house there. Next project is to build a school and then a clinic. That’s one arm of what we are doing. The second is.”

Gudiya cries again.
Gudiya: You know the location of this place? This village? The one where you built the school?
Greg’s mask of politeness is replaced by disbelief like the rest of the audience (What the crap are you talking about, lady? Grrrr)
Greg: I’ve lived there for six months
Gudiya: But is there a name to this place? Can we have the name?
Greg: There is; but I preserve the name. I gave a fictional name in the book. Even the film contract states that the original name will not be disclosed. I think it would be inappropriate. Already, there are hundreds of people coming for Shantaram book tours to Bombay. When the movie releases, there will be thousands. If I gave the name of this place away, people from all over the world will start visiting it. It might do the village good.this tourism. But the possible harm that it might do is greater. If anything happens to any child or woman in this village, I don’t want to take any responsibility for it. If they invite people themselves, I’m ok with it. But I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be responsible for any possible damage to them.

To all writers.

“In a better world, we hope to be characterized by among many other things, meritocracy. Unfortunately, that not the kind of world we live in. In this world, it’s not what you know. It’s who you know. No matter how good a book or a screenplay you write, if you don’t have a good agent, you can just walk around in circles. And if you do sell it, you’ll sell it for far less than it is worth; because you don’t have an agent there to fight for you.”

Shataram the movie.

“There is this pitching process that actors and producers do. I met the four actors who wanted to play this part: Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Russell Crowe. I spoke to them on the telephone; I spoke to their producers on the telephone. They pitch to you on the phone. Then you hold the auction. They are hoping that they have persuaded you before the auction, to accept your bids even if it’s a lower bid. I came down for the auction. The morning the auction was going to be held, I came to the office and said I’ve already picked Johnny Depp. They asked why. I said, ‘Because he’s the only one who has been talking to me about India. The others think that India and its people are not even a part of this project. So Depp, I think, will be able to bring the right heart into this project. And it turned out that his was the highest bid.’”

“Involvement in the film? Less than they had offered. I am on board as a consultant. I wrote the first draft: 900 pages in 90 mins.”

“I took the writers and director around Bombay, when they came down. But I don’t think writers should be looking over the shoulders of the directors and producers in the making of the film. I love films and I respect and admire the art. And I think they shouldn’t regard the book as sacred and too reverent. If it is, then I think it has failed. The director has to be free to do his own interpretation. I won’t be there second guessing and looking over their shoulder.”

“I’m dying to get Johnny Depp to this place.to Bombay.”

Forthcoming projects.

“I’m working with a local film company. We are committed to making three films in two years. I’m writing the screenplay for the first of those films at the moment. I just completed a book of romantic poetry which is due for release at end of year, 2005. I’m also writing a sequel to Shantaram. I’m halfway through that novel and I intend to finish it this year. I’m also working on another novel.a romantic novel set in thirteenth century in Arabia.”

Overheard
“He’s just going on and on.Is he going to leave anything for us to read at all?”

---

Comments

Comment by Akshay on February 9, 2006 @ 11:15 pm

A great account, you haven’t missed out anythings not even the several interuptions ‘Gudiya’ Memshab threw out at the audience. It was like I was there, which I was.

Comment by addytorials on February 10, 2006 @ 1:53 am

I thought I’d missed it. Thank you for this.

Comment by Kamla on February 10, 2006 @ 8:00 pm

Thanks Maya. This account made for a great read. I was curious to know if there were any questions that the audience asked.

Kamla

Comment by Maya on February 11, 2006 @ 2:23 pm

Hi Kamla,

yeah.there were a few questions.about 15 minutes worth. I haven’t put up the questions but the answers. for instance, someone asked him about the discipline he imposed upon him self, some on the lines of learning to forgive , art surviving torture. et al. send me your e-mail id.and I’ll try to put the questiosn down.
:)
His answers were long, and with restricted time, we could have not more than 5-6 questions. Also, Gudiya, asked many. Alas! they weren’t, lets say, great.???

Take Care,
maya

Comment by sunil on February 12, 2006 @ 12:55 am

i read Shantaram and enjoyed it immensely. But i still think that the question that Dolly asked “are you real” needsto be asked. Especially in light of the revealations about “A million little pieces” and the stunned reactions in USA, at least. So is everything that is in the book , the interpol experience etc for true? Has anyone ever verified it?

Comment by david tiley on February 12, 2006 @ 1:24 pm

I come from his home town of Melbourne and am round about the same age. And I too am very suspicious about fake histories.

I can’t testify to what happened after he left Melbourne, but I can tell you the Melbourne part of the story is true. He is a well-known legend in his local community, though only as a memory.

Comment by Maya on February 13, 2006 @ 2:37 pm

In response.

This question was posed.about the reality of events.He said the events are true.but the names are fictional. The actual chronology might not be similar to one he has showcased in the book. For instance, the village story is real, but the names fictional, the black market deals are real, but Khaderbhai is not. More importantly, I asked him if Karla was real (a burning question that I had to had to had to ask). He said Karla was fictional. ‘Shantaram’ is not entirely non-fiction in the strictest sense of the word. He has a lot of events, names, and people to camouflage, apparently. Essentially, it’s part-entertainment too. But he’s indeed a master of the craft. I’ll check on the facts bit again and get back to you.

Regards,
Maya

Comment by Liz on February 14, 2006 @ 7:49 am

Don’t you think that Greg David Roberts just fits into that great Australian literary tradition of criminal/larrikan exaggerated yarn-spinner? (eg Chopper Read). In other words, the point isn’t to verify how ‘real’ the events are, it’s how good & how entertaining the yarn can get, and it’s that vague connectition to ‘reality’ that keeps us wondering..

Comment by Sid on February 22, 2006 @ 7:28 pm

hi,

I LOVE THE BOOK

Comment by Sid on February 22, 2006 @ 7:36 pm

hi maya,

I LOVE THE BOOK, had to get it out of my system. if he is even half the man he says he his, i consider him to be an amazing man..i live in mumbai(bombay) and after i read the book i started to see the place and the people in a whole new perspective, in a way he has introduced me to a place which i was blind towards, and i thank him for that.i missed him at the kala ghoda festival.i would love to meet him, even if its for a couple of minutes..please, if possible let me know where i could do so,even if only for his autoghraph.

Many thanks .. Sid

Comment by Mausam on February 25, 2006 @ 2:43 pm

I just finished the book and its got the most profound effect on me than any other fictonal/nonfictional book every has.its just the intricate details that greg explains in his own poetic way.the charecters all come togather to make a saga we call shantaram. I looked everywhere for a picture of greg in the ’80s with his gang at leopolds, things are not looking too bright in that sector.just hoping one day he will share them with us.
I could have never believed untill I read shantaram, that someone who is not Indian can understand the way we Indians are, the way behave, the way we love,what turns us on, what turns us off, and everything about being India, but i guess he has understood it more than I ever have.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by MayaI was intrigued. Poetry for youth? What could they write about have apart from acne spots and boyfriend troubles? What are their motivations? Are they going to launch a movement to make young people write poetry? Or berate their attempts at string words together to create rhythm?

“We need poetry that is relevant to the child’s immediate environment,” said Anju Makhija and cut through many of my pre-conceived notions about this workshop. For starters, she said there are various categories.right from 4-8 year-olds to pre-teens to teenagers. What would an eight year old write? I was further intrigued.

She continued, “A workshop we held sometime back on the same lines outlined the fact that kids don’t want to know about the dark and lovely woods but want to know about Bombay.” I’m sure, I thought. With the shrinking green cover, dark and lovely woods in Bombay are as imaginative as JRR Tolkien’s fantasy fiction. “It is nearly impossible to effect a change because the textbooks are controlled centrally. But that does not discount the need for a change,” said Anju and invited writers, journalists, copywriters, poets and the likes, who had written poetry for or on young people.

First up was Sampoorna, a copywriter by profession and a poet by compulsion. “I’d rather read a wicked poem about living in my city,” she said. She read four poems varying from a child’s sense of boredom at reading boring poetry, to a pre-teen’s grouse against his elder sister’s friend, to her own experience as a girl who had grown in a co-ed school and then moved to an all girl’s school and college.

The pre-teen’s grouse.
“A poem about my sister’s friend
The two of them make three
And she comes over to our house
Only when she wants to pee”
.evoked bubbly giggles in a crowd of people who were.well.not so young (calling them 40 plus would be polite)

Next up was Rizio Raj, editor of Navneet Publications, who has published two novels in Malayalam-’Avinasom’ and ‘Yatrikam’. She has published poems in several journals and anthologies in India and abroad and presents her poems in various forums.

She admitted to having been fortunate enough to be born and brought up in a wonderful house with a huge courtyard and garden. Rizio attributed her unrestrained spirit to her rearing. “And that what I feel children lack today-the freedom of spirit,” she started off. She read a couple of poems, the more prominent one being about Beslan school hostage crisis where terrorists took an entire school hostage in Beslan, Russia from September 1-3, 2004, resulting in the killing of 186 children. This graphic poem ended with a sense of loss and.”all we can give is a moment of silence, our last way to hold hands.”

Priya Sarukkai Chaabria, a poet and writer from Pune gracefully walk up next on stage and read some great poems in her wonderful diction. “Sandwichwala and Nimbupaniwala were friends, and religious nose diggers.” she started. I forgot to write the rest as I was delightfully engrossed in what she read out; but I remember the end of this poem. “They taught us that forbidden stuff is best,” she ended.
She then read a poem about her first ever crush at the age of 13.a boy called Neil. He left school that year and never came back. “I don’t know where he is today; but he’ll always remain 13 for me,” she said as an epilogue.

This was followed by Anju Makhija herself reading a few. Please forgive me if stumble during my reading because children do that. Or if I invent new words, because children do that too,” she warned. She started with ‘Little Strange Creatures’ and ended with ‘Colour Separation’. I’d like to put the last stanza of Colour Separation down:
“When Canary sings yellow
When parrots cluck green blue
When peacock preens a myriad of hues
Then why do humans see brown?
Add to that black and white; and you could lose yourself in the human zoo.”

Then we had Marilyn Noronha of Poetry Circle and Jane Bhandari of Loquations come up and close the event with their readings. Marilyn was great and Jane effervescent.

With the crows cawing and little bits of leaves and stuff falling on my head, I listened attentively to all that was being read out. Interspersed with humour and giggles, the event was great. Unfortunately, not many people were there to experience it. But it was, indeed, a fun evening, which left you with many questions. Poetry for young people?.Why? Are they losing touch with this genre? May be. With the craft? Hell, definitely. And with memories?.

You know sometimes you wonder what happens to your experiences.as you grow older. Do you tuck them away in some cobwebbed corner of your memory and gloss over them during yearly reunions with friends? And as the years pass by, the earliest one is replaced by the most recent.the early insignificant often replaced by the contemporary significant. Can it get any worse than misplacing your memories???

If not for the art then at least for the sake of memories.one needs workshops such as these.

Brrrrrr.went off to a different tangent.back to KG.read on for the talk with Shantaram.

P.S.: The poetry quotes are not verbatim.sorry, I forgot I was carrying a Dictaphone.remembered in the middle of the next event.