In pursuit of ....

He woke up to the screeching sound, as the nose wheel of the aircraft touched the ground. From the tiny windows of the plane he looked outside. The airport stared at him. The same old forlorn look. Ah airports, he thought, the melting point of so many emotions, emotions of meeting, emotions of parting and yet it never matters to the airport.  It never reciprocates, may be it doesn’t even understand the feelings. Have you ever been deeply in love with someone for whom you are just one of those many suitors? Have you seen the irreverence in her eyes when you pour your heart out to her? It doesn’t matter to her, it doesn’t matter to the airport either.   Both are indifferent, the world doesn’t affect them, emotions don’t touch them. Sometimes he wonders, why he can’t be like an airport. Stoic and equanimous. 

As he got out of the aircraft and moved towards the shuttle, it seemed someone whispered in his ear. He looked back. Nah, no one was there. It was only a gust of fresh breeze that touched his cheeks and went past.  Faceless yet familiar. Playing hide and seek. The whispering was almost hushed.  He looked towards the sky. The sun was making one last sincere attempt to shine before bidding a goodbye kiss to the night. And the sky was splashed with divine colors as day and night marched towards each other. He had seen this before, ages back, standing on his terrace, in his corner where dreams everyday clashed with reality at the stroke of twilight. And in those days dreams won every day, every single day. Reality was a naïve, distant competitor. As he got down the shuttle he watched the gardener watering the airport garden. The fragrance of the water drenched soil was so invigorating. He tried remembering when the last time he had this feeling. But then, why are these feelings coming back today. As he looked around he saw the airport signboard. Ah then, it was the familiarity of home town, a place where he had left a piece of his heart. He had gone out in pursuit of success, he had come back in search of happiness.

The sudden turbulence in the plane and the subsequent announcement of the air hostess to tighten the seat belt woke him up. The screen in front showed the aircraft flying at 600 miles per hour and his destination New York , four hours away . He sat up and drank a bit of water. Ah a dream it was. Today the table has turned a full circle and reality became the winner. Dream has become a naïve, distant competitor. Home then is far away, far far away.   

Haraamkhor

Haramkhor : This is a strange film! Throughout the 94 minutes, I was completely engaged in the film, watching the story unfold, yet when I came back home, I found multiple layers to the story. The title of the film is “HaramKhor” yet director Shlok Sharma rightly treats his characters as they are, with all their frailties, without being judgemental about them ( I m presuming the declaimers were put just to please censor) . The disclaimer talks about exploitation, yet I was not too sure if the film was meant to be on exploitation or the story of the loneliness of adolescence, the desire to have a companion, be cared, be physically close and the complexity of it all. If Sandhya would have been 18 years 15 days instead of 15 years then the entire arc would have been different. So, then it is a story about age.   That period of life when impishness of childhood is on its way out and maturity is just about setting in.  That period in your life when you feel the urge but don’t understand it.  And what happens when you meet someone who fulfills those desires, but you are not too sure of his intentions. But then was Shyam and Sandhya’s relationship exploitative? May be morally or legally, but I didn’t find Sandhya thinking it to be, till Nilu tells her that probably both of them have chosen the wrong man . Let’s go back to the “Age” discussion then. And if it is indeed about age then watch out for that ghastly last scene where this innocence of age is lost, where Kamal having lost his love and his friend mercilessly attacks Shyam.  

The characters have been etched out beautifully in Haramkhor and with the two child actors Irfan and Samad in full flow the film keeps you invested for most part of it.  Their chemistry and loyalty to each other is a treat to watch. Sweta Tripathi , who played an endearing character in Masaan , picks up the complex character of Sandhya going through myriad emotions . Nawaz as the village teacher Shyam is absolutely natural with his mannerisms. The cinematography captures the heartland of Madhya Pradesh. And I loved the scenes where the camera pans on to the empty fields and windmills, probably reflecting the emptiness inside and continuous churn.  

However my problem with Haramkhor is its inability to delve deeper. It could have explored the complexities has it decided to scratch beneath the surface. Yet it is a bold attempt that deserves a watch.  So go and find the Haramkhor, is it Shyam or Mintu or Kamal or the judgemental society that jumps to a conclusion. To each his own!