Antichrist (2009)

Disturbed, a sense of uneasiness – that’s how I would describe my feeling after seeing Antichrist. An expectant deer delivering, with the kid half hanging from her uterus; a baby bird fallen from its nest, the ants wriggling on its body, biting at it when an eagle swoops down upon it and then lands upon a tree clasping it and tearing it apart piece by piece; a crow buried alive beneath the ground smashed to death with a piece of stone; a fox tearing apart its own intestines; a man’s genital spewing blood when masturbated; a woman cutting off her own clitoris with a pair of scissors - Antichrist thrives on loathsome scenes like this. What starts as a painful drama about a couple who have lost their only child (the disturbing premise being the child fell off an open window while the parents were indulged in sex) and are trying to cope with it, gradually turns into a gruesome psychological thriller involving a meditation on pain, grief and despair (the Three Beggars, as the film identifies them) on one hand while a commentary upon sex, life and death on the other. Trouble starts when the couple retreats to a cabin in a forest where bizarre visions and sadistic sexual behaviour overwhelms their life. The film contains scenes potent in medieval Catholic imagery and Christian symbolism as well as sadistic sexual fancies that can shock and provoke any normal audience. Wikipedia quotes an article published on the site breitbart.com that, “At least four people fainted during the preview due to the film's explicit violence.” You’ll have to see the film to judge the truth of the above report. The only soothing moments of the film are provided in the so called ‘Prologue’ and ‘Epilogue’ of the movie, where the beautiful aria ‘Lascia ch'io pianga’ runs in the background to some brilliant images in slow motion. The movie combines the beautiful camerawork of Anthony Dod Mantle with stunning performances by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg. So what’s my judgment about the movie? Well, director Lars von Trier was quoted as saying, “was Antichrist my Inferno Crisis?” For my part, I think, it indeed was.

Music and Loneliness

While returning home today after having my sumptuous dinner at Subway, I chanced upon a Folk Music concert going on beside the fish market in Keshtopur. Organised by the Viswakarma Puja Committee, Keshtopur, the concert featured little known singers singing Bangla folk music. The audience gathered seemed pretty familiar with the music. Although I am a complete stranger to Bangla folk music, I was attracted by the song. The singer was not extraordinarily gifted and you could feel the roughness in his voice; but the music – it had an enticing quality. I don’t know but that song aroused a strong sensation of loneliness within me. It had that haunting quality, so characteristic of folk music. I believe that folk music, if it is really good, has the capacity to linger on for a long time in your head and heart. And this song, that the singer was singing did stay behind in my mind. The song had a visual quality to it that made me envisage a lonely person walking down the dirt-ridden lanes of Kolkata and that song playing in the background. He was lost, bereaved of his friends and his family. Altogether alone. And the music – as if all thoughts from the farthest corners of his mind had taken the form of words and melody and beats and had surrounded him, lamenting upon his loss. It was a powerful image; I feel I could write a whole script or story around it. In the same way, as the image of a plastic bag, flying round and round in an alley, compelled Sam Mendes to create ‘American Beauty’. Or as Gulzar had said about that scene in Kamleshwar’s ‘Kitne Pakistan’ where the handkerchief of the heroine is falling down in a rotational motion from the foot-bridge, that he could write a complete novel out of that one scene. It was an image as powerful as that. I wish someday I would be able to include that scene and song in a movie that I’ll make.

LIQUID DREAMS...

(I was just surfing thru some unknown profiles in ORKUT when I happened to come across this picture in the album of someone called **RoameR**. Sketched by him, he called it LIQUID DREAMS. I was enticed by the picture & words started taking shape in my mind. This is for those hands that carved such a beautiful masterpiece.)


Let the azure heavens above cover me no more
Nor the black earth below sustain me;
Let the hurricanes high on the sea falter my vessel
And the mighty winds tear my nest to pieces.
Let the shivering cold freeze my wavering thoughts
And the sparks of lightning obliterate my existence.
Let the beating rains steep me in apalling gore
And mountains high crop up to block my ways ahead.
Let the liquid dreams fade into oblivion
And the crystal hopes fall asunder
Let plastic trusts descry their annihilation
And trifling love wrap itself in an impassable drape.
Still, I shall find my way in solitude
Dark may be the night, invisible the road
'Cause I know, someone is waiting for me
With arms open wide, wherever ends this road.

TUM...

(This is one of my first compositions in Hindi. Written for a friend, I hope it conveys my feelings unambiguously.)

नहीं  जानता  था  मैं तुम्हें

पर तुम्हारे स्पर्श में था 

वो अपनापन, वो प्यार 

जिसने मेरे दिल में तुम्हारी 

एक अमिट तस्वीर बना दी. 

न जाने किस राह पर चला था 

इस ज़िन्दगी को मुट्ठी में बांधे

ठोकर लगी तो ये जाना -

हर ओर अँधेरा था 

मैं चीखा, चिल्लाया

पर कोई नज़र न आया!

मगर - 

पाकर सहारा तुम्हारे मज़बूत हाथों का

मैं निकला उस स्याह अँधेरे से.

नज़र उठा कर देखा

तो था तुम्हारा हँसता चेहरा;

पर उन हंसती आँखों से

न जाने क्यूँ छलक पड़ी

आंसू की वो नन्ही बूँदें.

और जैसे मेरी सारी दुनिया

बह गयी उन बूंदों में.

धुंधली हुई छवि तुम्हारी

मैं दौड़ा - 

सोचा तुम्हें रोक लूं

पर तुम हो चुके थे गुम

हवा की हलकी झोकों में;

बची रह गयीं सिर्फ यादें तुम्हारी

जिन्हें, कर मुट्ठी में बंद

मैं निकल पड़ा अनजान सफ़र पर

ना जाने किस अनजान डगर पर.

ENGLISH TRANSLITERATION

Nahin jaanta tha main tumhe
Par tumhare sparsh mein tha
Woh apnapan, woh pyar
Jisne mere dil mein tumhari
Ek amit tasveer bana di.

Na jaane kis raah par chala tha
Is zindagi ko mutthi mein baandhe
Thhokar lagi to yeh jaana -
Har or andhera tha
Main cheekha, chillaya
Par koi nazar na aaya!
Magar -
Paakar sahara tumhare majboot haathon ka
Main nikla us syah andhere se.
Nazar uthakar dekha
To tha tumhara hansta chehra
Par un hansti aankhon se
Na jaane kyon chhalak padi
Aansun ki woh nanhi boondein.
Aur jaise meri saari duniya
Bah gayi un boondon mein.

Dhundhli hui chhavi tumhari;
Main dauda-
Socha tumhein rok loon
Par tum ho chuke the gum
Hawa ki halki jhonkon mein;
Bachi rah gayin sirf yaadein tumhari
Jinhein, kar mutthi mein band
Main nikal pada anjaan safar par,
Na jaane kis anjan dagar par.

WHERE ART THOU?

O Solace of my Heart! Where art thou?
Much have I traveled & much learnt
And yet, none lent a hand in my search unfailing.



Aye, I climbed the loftiest peaks of the Himalayas
And delved deep into the bosom of Poseidon
Yonder sailed to the farthest frontiers of fathomless Pacific
And shivered in the stinging chill of the Arctic -
I searched for thee in the Heavens.
I searched for thee in the Shades.
I smoldered in the fire of passion
To touch thee, to feel thee & to make thee mine.

The fleeting fragrance of thy frenzied breath
The seemly smile of thy enthralling visage
The velvet smoothness of thy aspen arms
The untainted silks of thy brazen hair
Touches me still -
Brings in thy memories, of seconds ephemeral spent together
Under the shades of the surreptitious oak
Near the surging streams of the sparkling brook
Where the vibrant sun burnished our bodies
Filtered through the green leaves trembling in the wind;
Where thine soul touched me ; and mine, of thee.
Nature stood there beholding us in elation
The joys of Spring, the ecstasies of Summer
The silence of Autumn, & the pain of Winter
Were those times genuine, or the phantasms of a possessed psyche?

And now that thou art gone
The sizzling sun scorches me no more
Nor do the beating rains drench me to sore
Am I still that figurine of flesh & blood
Or have I become a shade, invisible like air?



O Solace of my Heart! Where art thou?
I search for thee in the Heavens.
I search for thee in the Shades.
Come, my love! Return back to me wherever thou art.
I will love thee, adore thee & worship thee in my heart.
Come, beloved! Come & fill my heart with love long lost.

IN DREAMS

I close my eyes and search my heart
To find a mind trying to keep me alert
The shades of black and white do I perceive
Its nothing legible that I receive.

The picture of a world so dreary and gloomy
The ruins of an empire envisage me
The invidious laughter of someone I hear
And feel the presence of something cold near.


Is it my fear that confronts my conscience
Or is it the terrible fate that before me whines?
I open my eyes in a sudden jiffy. To my pleasure
I find Hope, dazzling & gleaming, in the azure.

Yours Radha...

[This is for everyone who has loved & lost. In the name of love...]

Kanha,

That day, when for the first time I saw you, I knew that there was something unique about you. You were different from others. My heart cried to me, “This is Him, Radha. He is the one - your eternal love.” Yes, you are my eternal love. My love was not a suckling infant, it had seen ages; its seeds lie in the womb of time – it was the fruition of the love between the Brahman & the Atman. Who are you? What are you? It doesn’t matters to me. For someone you’re the Godhead, for others Maya incarnate. Somebody calls you son, for others you are a brother. But for me you are Kanha, only Kanha. My Kanha…

What is love? An emotion or a disfigured name of lust? I was unaware of the depth of this single word, until I met you. And when I realized the meaning of love, with it I procured torment of jealousy & throes of parting. Why do we love & acquire in its return pain & mourning – Why?

I still remember the day when in the gusty rains in the stunning wilderness of Vrindavan your hands had touched me for the first time; when your sturdy arms had clasped me close to your heart; when your lips had alleviated the thirst of my quivering lips with a kiss. When your person, dark like the clouds of monsoon & steeped in the petite droplets of the downpour, had swathed my distinct body, fair like the first snow of the Himalayas; it seemed as if the clouds had enveloped the lustrous moon. That day, every mite of your essence was imbibed by my body. I was imperfect till then. That day I felt that I have become absolute. You culminated the modus of my completion. You had touched me; no other yearning lingered in my heart.

You were Shiva, I craved to be your Shivani; you were Indra, I coveted to be your Indrani; you were Agni, I pined to be your Svaha – to sum it up, I chose to be your consort.

But, perhaps, the fates were against us. Soon I was married off to Ayyan. But even the holy knots of nuptial were unable to efface your name from my heart. Love only happens once in your life; and I’d loved you, Kanha. I carried out not a single duty that is expected of a wife. How could I? I was married to Ayyan, but you were my soulmate.

I was already your spouse when I married Ayyan. Your contingence was the vermillion of my head & your embrace my bridal wreath. Your body that enfolded my person was the bridal raiment while the dazzling lightning in the wet firmament was the fire of the altar. Walking with you hand in hand, I don’t know how many times I impersonated the holy rites of the Seven Steps. Even after this if I was deemed to be a virgin worthy of marriage, then what could I say?

It is not easy for a man to persevere the indignity of his consort adoring some other man. Ayyan restrained himself for many days; but for how long? When the floodgates of his forbearance collapsed, it overwhelmed everything. When the conflagration of his passion allayed, he looked at me. I lay there – like a cadaver - lifeless. But was there any life in me before that? My life - I had gifted it upon your feet.

But perhaps, it was a burly blow to Ayyan. Who could have loved a carcass? In that dark night, I saw fear in his eyes. A fear of the unknown. He straightened himself & went out of the room trembling in grief & fury. He did not return. Later, I heard that he became the Commander-in-Chief of the army of Kamsa. Kanha, can you see now what your love has done to me? I am neither alive nor dead.

I couldn’t even bid you farewell the day you were leaving for Mathura. Every person who loved you, who adored you was trying to stop you with his tears. But I – I could not even do that. After all, I was bound in the shackles of a fake marriage. I only looked at you… hidden behind the trees… dropping tears from my eyes. What else could I do?

If only, even for a second, you would have looked at me, I would have endured my whole life cherishing that one moment. But no – you had accepted me as the pit of all your sorrows. In your eyes, I had deceived you. But believe me when I say – I love you. And it is only you that I love. And if that is my fault, then I have nothing else to say.

Today, I have no other companions other than the flute you had gifted me. I keep it close to my heart. In the scorching heat of Jyeshtha, when I wander in the wilds of Vrindavan, I still hear the enchanting notes of your flute. When I press your flute to my lips, I can taste your lips. The trees & bushes of Vrindavan, the waters of Yamuna – everywhere I feel you, I smell you. Even though you are absent, your essence is ubiquitous.

In your life, if you have felt ever felt even least amount of love for me, then by that right I beseech you – just for once, let me see you. I will be gratified by your gesture. After descrying you, even the agony of Hell will be more pleasant for me than the bliss of the Heaven.

I can not endure this solitude any more. What should I do? I can no more bear to exist like this – anticipating, someday you’ll come & engulf me in your arms. I cannot even embrace death in peace, because I want to see you just once before my death. Come back, Kanha. Please come back. Before it’s too late, come back. I cannot live without you, beloved. Before my last breath leaves my earthly body, come back to me, my dear, come back…

Yours Radha