Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The kabootar khana

The kabootar khaana buzzes

At the junction with

Pigeons willfully

Caging themselves in

The hope of being fed.

In hope of being


As the plump businessman’s

Ticket to salvation.

To vindicate his salivation.

A thirsty tongue

Lapping up gold and diamonds

And stubby fingers

Caressing pigeon feed.


The railings of the the khaana,

Once a rusty red,

Now gleam white in pigeon poop.


(Ambassadors of peace ,

Who decided on the poor pigeons?

Now they fly on roof tops

Of the Taj Hotel with black soot

Choking their nostrils,

Blackening their glistening green-blue manes

Now they must wear ear plugs

If they have to nestle on the top

Along with gunshots and grenade shrapnel.)


The air smells of damp feathers ,

Grey stench and the smell of stained peace.


(Masakalli , sits on the terrace parapet

The white pigeon has its wings clipped.

Vain in white, it sits in Chandni Chowk

Far from black soot, gunshots and freedom)


It is a free cage

Just like the maikhaana.

Where he comes,

To cage himself

And relish the anticipation

Of  unchained freedom.


Did you see that?

Right there,

The street urchin crosses the street,

With a handful of stolen grains

And takes flight with

The well fed birds.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

What went wrong with Delhi 6?

Delhi 6, entered , with hopes, promises of delight and of course, Masakalli and her white freshness perched on top of Bittoo’s head. Something got lost , however, while R.K.Mehra tried materializing metaphors. From being a “Burger-chaap” centric plot ,
It has took a wrong detour to becoming a Monkey Chaap danth manjan that’s a little too ruddy to chew.
The black monkey, we understand , has been conceived as the dark, wild, animal within each of us who acts on no rhyme or reason. Yes , we understand that personifications, metaphors, messages must drive the movie , but , in Delhi 6 , theres been either an oversimplification of things or a ridiculity of taking some aspects over seriously that leads to a shoddy climax.
When the victimized Monkey man is shot in the end, and in deep agony Bittoo lets out a scream , whats more heartbreaking, is to hear the audience laugh out in amusement at the melodrama unfolding in jerks before them, in , what was supposed to be a new age contemporary urban edged film.
The rustic theme, the fresh sounds , the feel good start, are mired by jerky transitions, an over dosage of ‘ yeh hai India’ sequences.
It all seems to take confused montages into an even more 90’s style climaxes where all the cast is crammed into the frame , and all the loops(if any) are tied up one by one, in sequence, like the abrupt closing of various files. And the audience is left in the seat after ‘the end’ trying to digest, ‘What? That’s it? And was that heaven by any chance? Give me a break!’
The song though never fails to give you a good morning smile!
Ay Masakalli masakalli, tu matakali matakali…