Nostalgia

There is something about living in the same place for a long, long time. The bond between a man, his house, his surroundings and the earth he sets foot on every day is beyond description. In solitude he sees the same landscapes, with mild changes now and then. The odours in the air he breathes, he recognizes, and the nostalgia sets in, bringing with it pictures of childhood. He can still hear the noise of children playing in the neighborhood, the shouting, the howling and laughter that is free of reservations; and it sounds like sweet music. The people of his childhood have now turned old and weary, yet they smile with same affection while they walk along the same road, time and again. He sees the sun rise and sun set at the very same place, and the mysterious patterns of clouds it leaves behind as it returns homeward. These drawings of the sun appear sometimes, while the sky remains clear at other times. This is a constant enigma he faces. He often remembers his kite flying in the clear sky and the pains he took making one during his vacations. Nothing can ever replace the satisfaction of being part of that festivity. He recounts how the coming of the rains changes the whole surroundings of his place, how each of the trees and plants turn green and how each drop of rain sounds and how it tunes itself with the smell of mother earth.

But now, he finds people changing their homes like changing clothes, without thought and with perfect ease. The reason they give is, more space, more money, better views, better facilities, better job and the list goes on. But he wonders whether anyone thinks about what they'll miss.

Can this person ever leave this place of his heart, for whatever reason?

Quote justified

It was a day like any other except that we had to dine outside. Me and my brother decided to go in some well known restaurant. The mood was all set. But that one question as always started revolving in circles around my head, much like the stars and question marks shown around a cartoon character in a confused state. "Which restaurant?". I made a suggestion and saw a frown on bro's face. When he couldn't suggest any better I justified my choice saying that I'd heard some of my friends saying that so and so dish is best served at the place.

And there we were sharp at 9.45 p.m. As we entered we saw a crowd of like-minded people who must have come with similar thoughts and best intentions. We quickly selected a place that was meant for only two. This was just before a helper there made the very same suggestion, although we could have had made ourselves more comfortable by choosing a place meant for more people. I think, why I didn't make that decision was due to a reasonable thought that crossed my mind that said, hey, after all, we are just two and the main purpose is to enjoy good food; and why make other people wait from filling their tummies in the beautiful restaurant. Within seconds we found ourselves sitting face-to-face across a small table while the waiter waited on us placing a menu each in our hands. Once again a new question arose, "what dish?", and the confusion was getting on my nerves. Fortunately, I remembered my buddy's words, "they serve the best Chicken Biryani!". I felt relived for no longer having to make a choice. My bro had "American chopsey" in mind. So we ordered these two dishes. The prices were exotic. As we ordered, obviously I was thinking what to have as starters. But according to bro this was enough food to fill ourselves up. We were done with the ordering business, I thought. However the waiter was shrewd enough. "Col-drinks, sirs?", he asked. I talked to myself as always, "Col-drinks are bad for health and one of the worst ways to spend one's hard earned money". I said, "No thanks" and my brother said "Coke" and the waiter left us with a fake smile.

Then the wait began that usually lasts till eternity in most restaurants. Bro got a friend's phone call and he was in conversation while me, being a bit unlucky at the moment could only spend time appreciating the walk-ins and walk-outs of beautiful people, most of whom were trying hard to make their presence felt. I thought, it's great to earn and finally spend it on the most basic human necessity, food. By this time, it was as if we were through with most part of a film and were heading towards a great climax.

When the waiter finally arrived, we saw a huge bowl of "American chopsey" placed before our hungry eyes and a slightly smaller (not really) bowl of "Chicken Biryani". Seeing the sizes of the two bowls, pressure began to mount on me as I could never in my wildest dreams think of gulping so much. The great thing about the waiters is that they would never reveal the secret of the bowl-size before the order is placed, keeping their loyalty to the restaurant intact.

We started with the "A. chopsey" and a couple of spoons really made our taste-buds vibrate with joy. However as time went by we understood the enormity of the task ahead of us. The chopsey would just not get over. As it grew colder we began to get a bad taste of the perhaps left-over crum noodles. We decided to switch to the main item, the "Chicken Biryani". All the anticipation led to a anticlimax as we left digging loads of pepper seeds in the dish in order to have a decent bite. There were more pepper seeds than rice seeds. I thought the one good thing I did was to order it boneless. If I knew about the overload of pepper in advance, I would have rather ordered it pepper-less. Within 5 minutes we had mutually agreed to stop eating and parcel the food back home. May be it was the exotic price we had to pay that led us into the parceling business.

When we got home and told our sad story, we were ordered to dump the parcel straight into the garbage bin. Once this was done, I was looking for some consolation. The strawberry ice-cream I'd got home the other day came to the rescue and I felt better.

It's funny how plans go wrong. But to be able to share the experience makes oneself feel lighter.
If you are thinking about the title, the quote goes: "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." - John Lennon.

Something unknown

When it’s there, its just there. It comes without any alert or prior notice. Like the wind on a hot summer day, like the rain on a barren, dry land, like the first appearance of sun after days behind the cloudy sky, like the first smile of a first born child. And the moment it sets foot, the world changes and everything appears pleasant and one starts to think whether he is living in the real world or is dreaming in his cushy bed. Such is the power of luck.

Definition of a good film

It should have a catchy beginning. This may be done using either or some of the following several techniques.

• The manner in which titles are shown.

• The opening scene. This is when the film begins without much introduction and credits.

• Background score / Title score.

• Cinematography.

• Narration.

• Written message describing an event/occurrence. Or stating that the film is based on a famous novel, or stating that it’s a true story.

• Screen presence of a powerful actor.

Once the film has taken a strong grip of the audience with a good start, then the next objective is to maintain it till its end. Here is where the plot, screenplay and editing matter most.

An original plot/story means half the battle is won. But in cinema it’s not all to have a good story; how you tell it decides whether it would be appreciated or not. Few of the styles in which one can tell a story is as follows (Note: In case of some films, some styles might overlap).

• In a straight line, as a sequence of events, chronologically. Ex: A Civil Action, Motorcycle Diaries, Goodwill Hunting, Rocky, As good as it gets, Rain man, Capote, Benhur, McKenna's Gold, Jurrasic Park, Independence day, The Recruit, Troy, Lost in Translation, Finding Forrester, Godfather I, Midnight Run, Scent of a woman, The Edge, Unbreakable, U.S. Marshalls, The Departed etc.
  

• Flashback. Again this could be a continuous one or as intermittent flashbacks. Ex: Godfather II, Lawrence of Arabia, Green Mile, Saving Private Ryan, Titanic, Catch me if you can, Bandits.
  

• As a narrative, in first person or in third person. Ex: Forrest Gump, Apocalypse Now, Platoon
  

• As a sequence of events, chronologically incorrect. This is a modern style where the audience is first put into chaos only to be given a pleasant shock of coincidental merger of events that solves the jigsaw puzzle and evolves into a perfect story. A rare examples are, Lucky Number Sleven and Babel.
  

• More that one story told separately. They all have the same theme. Another of the modern styles. Ex: Babel, Gandha (Marathi).
  

• Absurdity. Just events that have a captivating effect but not much or no reason. Another of the modern styles. But it’s a very difficult art to do so. A rare example is, “Pulp fiction”.

Once we have a script it needs to be told/represented on screen. Whatever you see on screen - every single detail - comes through a screenplay. A well-crafted screenplay keeps the audience involved and glued to the screen, to use a hyperbola not allowing a blink of eye. So the screenplay dictates which actors and things will makeup the scene and what every animate/inanimate thing would act like while the scene is running.

Finally, editing which without doubt is the heart of filmmaking process. It is through good editing that a filmmaker cuts and trims each scene in the film. Good editing simply means making the film concise/compact without affecting its essentials. Thus this also decides the length of the film.

I intend to add on to this write-up as and when I learn more about this difficult yet wonderful art of filmmaking.