One of these mornings when we were all listening, ignoring, and working past one another, to catch hold of the daily train of activities, I was stopped by a call. A rather unusual word for a four-and-a-half to call a parent.
“Babumoshai”
I definitely stopped at that. My amazement and chuckle soon dissipated; other parent’s unasked questions did the part. Of the two of us, one gets impatient sooner than the other, coming up with expressions like —
“Such rich text spurting out of this little mouth!” something to that effect…
I am not the one!
In my defense, I clarified that I was watching Anand and I couldn’t recall if the kid was also lurking around. We didn’t watch for long, I added sheepishly.
“A collection of essays that celebrate the myriad dimensions of this happening decade – the fashion, the music, the different genres of films, the iconic stars, the many moods and memories that have kept the decade alive in our collective consciousness”
It’s edited by Nirupama Kotru and Shantanu Ray Chaudhari and has essays by some of my most favorite film people and writers like Varun Grover, Vishal Bharadwaj, Jai Arjun Singh, Uday Bhatia, Amitava Kumar, Subhash Ghai, and others.
While the essays/writers were a big reason I pre-ordered the book, it was the Hindi cinema of 70s as the subject of the book that pulled me in.
The preface by Nirupama Kotru had me hooked and took me down the memory lane, to the life and the times, which, in retrospect feel like was way behind the rest of the country. For the movies, it also meant the ones from yesteryear played regularly in theatres.
I kid you not, I have watched Manmohan Desai’s ‘77 blockbuster Parvarish in a theatre in my town.
India saw liberalization in mid-90’s; I and mine were a little late. It’s funny that I grew up in 90’s on a regular dose of the cinema of 70’s, thanks to Doordarshan that we had and the satellite TV that we hadn’t. Doordarshan’s slate was quite varied though; Benjamin Gilani-hosted Ank Ajoobe to Rangoli, it had it all.
And, for me, 70’s had it all, from music to films to film stars. RD Burma to Khayyam, Kishore Kumar to Mohd. Rafi, Bachchan to Naseeruddin Shah, Yash Chopra to Shyam Benegal.
It feels a bit weird to say this but these films feel like a time machine now but they felt close to reality then. The good thing was one moved on and we were like looking into the future when one watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai in theatres. This was again much later than the actual release.
What a time it was to be in when we didn’t try to use, get ahead of, or dominate time. Time, as Oliver Burkeman puts it, was not to be a commodity, not a means to an end. You did what you could, you lived what you got hold of. How can you, anyway, use something that is all pervasive! It’s all there is and we are IN it.
So much like stories.
We move in and out of it. They were there, they are here and they will always be here, after us, beyond us, and probably even beyond time.
It is also strange that this is what I can think of when I look back at the week passed by. I can’t remember a thing beyond the days and nights spent before the computer screen and I know that I haven’t been able to do a thing about my work and/or life any more than I have, in my imagination, even after listening it all from the book I thought and I still think has the most remarkable ideas on life and time, its finitude, embracing that and the human limitedness.
What do you do!
Hop from one story to another. One song to another.
And, here I am subjecting you, my dear reader and listener, to a snippet of a song that’s been in my head all through.
Lovely! Thoroughly enjoyed reading this