A Small Dissection of… (Oops, Sorry!) A Dissertation on A Lit Fest and A Movie

I admit it. This is more of a dissection than a dissertation.

Why did I go to the first Bangalore Literature Festival yesterday?

For a new experience, to be perfectly honest.

Did I get it?

Yes.

What did I take away as learning from those few hours?

That next time when I go to a place I’ve never been to before, I should make proper arrangements to transport myself back home. And, I should know the way; at least theoretically.

That’s all I took back?

Yes, and no.

What does that mean?

I went home shivering in the December cold, against which my hooded sweater proved to be sorry protection. All my thoughts were on getting home. And when I did, I didn’t want to waste a Friday night. So I watched Step Up Revolution, expecting to be disappointed with it, because I’d read reviews and that’s why never bothered to watch the movie in the hall in the first place. I got a surprise. The movie was good. And it was when I compared both experiences; that of going to the lit fest and that of watching this movie; that I came across a little discovery.

I realized that I’m not really interested in purity; culturally-speaking of course. Step Up was all about new and inspired dancing versus rule-based dancing. I thought back to what one of the most respected writers of Kannada literature was saying when I reached the Bangalore Literature Festival venue. He was talking aobut Kannada literature being so rich that people should stop ignoring it in favor of English literature. I’ve irreverently but respectfully forgotten his name (maybe because it was so purely Kannada, or more honestly because I wasn’t “listening”). There were a couple of foreigners in the crowd. I don’t know what they understood. Then, an impressive lady, Shashi Deshpande (I’ve heard her name somewhere, but I just can’t remember where), spoke next and “apologized for speaking in English because she was not as fluent with Kannada.” I had actually admired the beautiful purity of the words the previous speaker had used in spite of not understanding much of what he said. But when she said this, I felt like someone had just dunked me in cold water. Brrr! My only thought was, “Give it a rest people.”

So, I tuned out and waited for Gulzar to come on stage.

That experience was not disappointing at all, because of the element of honesty in it. I think what I was really looking for in the lit fest was “honesty” in massive amounts. So, I was mollified and even went on to feel something like “a small case of goose bumps” when Gulzar read out his beautiful Urdu poetry. The one that really stands out in my memory is one that I think is titled Total Solar Eclipse. Here’s a rough translation: In the romantic days of college, in the last benches; two hands would sneak furtively, slowly, towards each other. And then suddenly, one of the hands would grasp the other and cover it completely, lovingly. Today, the sun has covered the moon just like that. That one made my mind pop open.

Did I rush to take his photograph and want to have his autograph or want to talk to him about something?

Ah, another revelation. No, I did not. He is a grandfatherly (he called the MC “beta” not realizing that his mike was on and respectfully said “Ok, ok, two or three more poems. Ok) and very ordinary person just like you or me, who just thinks with his soul and puts that in words. I was more impressed by his humility in not accepting a pedestal meant for extraordinary souls, his honesty about what he really feels like, his wit and dry humor that is so gentle that it just brushes you like a feathery touch of something loving, and his innate love for life and his understanding acceptance of it in all its diversity. And as I write this, I realize… “Wow, he’s a great man. He really is that extraordinary soul he tries so not to be.” So, I did take something away other than that transportation lesson. Hmm.

And then, like a star being brought on stage… complete with a “guess who’s waiting back stage for you to call out his name… c’mon call out his name and he will appear” speech by the MC, Chetan Bhagat came on stage.

Another honest person who doesn’t pretend to be an extraordinary orator. People kept asking questions of him. He tried to answer his best. The questions were inane. And I don’t remember much of the answers. He has written books, for God’s sake. Read them if you want to know what he really thinks like. People were so moved by his “star-like” status, they wanted to know what he likes… as in does he like South-Indian women. I think that one topic took up 15 minutes, after which there wasn’t much time for the more serious questions. Someone asked: “Your work was very idealistic when you wrote Five Point Someone. You wanted to change the world then. Now that you are in a position to do so, what does it feel like?” Or something like that. I remember thinking, “now that’s actually a good question.” Chetan replies saying he was an extremist then and thought extreme change was needed, but now, he realizes that change cannot be brought about by extremism but by being moderate. For example, if you order a person to move and give you space, he won’t move. But if you ask that person like you would ask a friend, they would do it! Great point, that one. I liked it.

There was also some discussion about his frequent TV appearances. I’ve not seen a single one, so I wouldn’t know. I don’t watch that much TV! To that, he says, “well, sometimes, it is like, aye chikne (chikne could be a derogatory word – depends on how it is used), tu aja. Aj koi nahi hai.” Meaning, he is often called upon to fill space when no one else is available because he looks good on screen. Haha! Then he was asked about his belief that today’s youth were selfish and just wanted a good job and a good love life. Hah. That one went on and on, and I tuned out somewhere in the beginning. Was this tied in with the moderatism and extremism thing he said? Maybe. I was feeling a little cold by then, and looking at my watch wondering if I should leave. I did hear a few snatches from the audience. Things like, “he is giving all stupid answers,” (to which I thought “umm... not really”) I also heard things like, “he is being honest,” (to this I thought “hmm, reasonable assessment”). I had a sudden vision of myself sitting on that stage and answering questions instead of Chetan Bhagat. I think my answers would have been the same in tone and honesty.

What did I feel though? Nothing. I only gathered a little more courage and went took a snap of him myself instead of asking my friends to do that and asking them to “Bluetooth it over” to me, which is what I’d done with Gulzar (I guess I was a little awed by his persona).

Did I want to take his autograph and ask questions? I had nothing to ask. I left a few minutes before the session ended and spent the next half an hour shivering in the cold waiting for an autorickshaw.

My massive ego did not allow me to board the first one that came my way because the guy asked for an extra 20 bucks. My massive ego dwindled within minutes like a deflated balloon when no other auto even stopped. I had crossed over to the other side of the road and waited; so I decided to change tactics and re-crossed the road and went to stand in front of the gate again. I think I don’t need to say here that I felt a little worried because my friends were on their way home assuming I’d already found my transportation and my sister was worried sick because I called her up and worried her as much as I could. I decided to think of this as an adventure. Now why did I say that when I needn’t have? Silly me.

An auto came and I got in meekly when he demanded those extra 20 bucks again. I made him take a U-turn and go in the direction I was informed was the correct one. He obediently and conveniently forgot that it was really the wrong direction. He “remembered” after about two kilometers; and then took a U-turn again in the “right” direction. My freezing head and open mind just wanted to get home safe, which I did. And then I promptly proceeded to get something in my now-empty stomach and plunked myself down in the cold bean bag, wrapped up like a mummy in a lighter and slightly less effective version of a proper blanket, to watch Step Up Revolution. What a revelation.

I’d read reviews (must’ve been people who really don’t like dancing) and never bothered to watch this movie in the theater. I wish I hadn’t done that. If I could just delete some of the “pure salsa” (but even that was beautifully executed), it was a really good watch. I love dancing… as in I can’t dance but I love watching. I only ever truly dance inside my head where my mind conjures up fluid images of dance moves that are in tune with the music I’m listening to. This is my favorite pastime, when I’m forced to pass the “hours” on my everyday cab journeys to and from office. But the whole point is this: It is time to go beyond the defined rules and seek newness. The movie revolves around the antics of a band of dancers who call themselves "The Mob" and who do flash mobs in the most unlikely places in the most beautiful ways to get their voice heard. The movie shows dancing in a way that is totally new. Its got nothing to do with pure dancing styles. Its a radiant, vibrant, living mix that grabs your attention and holds it and then injects you with the germ of free thinking.

That's how I came to my biggest realization of the evening – that I’m not interested in cultural purity.

Here’s my explanation for that bland statement:

Just like the dances in the movie were "inspired and new" and not just the same rule-based dances we know about, culture too needs to change and renew itself. We often talk about culture like it is a set of rules that we should live by. That actually translates to outdated rules for an era that is not the present and can never be. To me, cultural purity means an old way of life that is no longer applicable now and is best “preserved” in photographs, paintings, and books – not in present-day living. I’m not really interested in the “fact” (translation “rule”) that we do namaste with folded hands. I’m more interested in finding out why we do it. If the reason appeals to me, I’ll do that namaste… when I feel like it, not when I “should.” If it doesn’t, I’ll forget about it and go hunting for the reason behind the next cultural symbol.

Since literature and culture are so inseparably mixed up in our minds, I think literature will be the first thing to be impacted by any conscious effort to change.

In this day and age, we really can afford to let go of the safety of some of the outdated community rules and think a little bigger… as in “global” instead of “local.” The present generation is doing it… hesitantly but visibly. I think that change is being invisibly guided by modern literature, which in turn is being moulded into its newest avatar by free thinkers.

Like they say, change is the only constant. And anything that doesn’t change, stagnates. It putrefies. Gulzar made a reference to the stagnation of religion in a poem of his as-yet unreleased book, and I loved the depth of truth behind those words. He said that medicines have an expiry date for a reason. Once the date crosses, they are not that useful any more. And if they are “preserved” even longer, they putrefy. They decay and after some more time of “preserving them as they are,” they turn into poison. Religion has crossed its expiry date.

Okay, that was what gave me the goose bumps.

Culture is much like that. Like religion, culture is a way of life. And while the entire environment and ecosystem changes constantly, culture cannot be kept “the same.” Culture means growth, change, and a healthy dose of irreverence. I cannot identify culture with over-respectfulness. Do you eat “outdated” food? I don’t either. Why should we settle for an “outdated” way of living then, especially if culture is almost as important as food. This brings me back to the concept of “cultural purity.” This is the era of globalization – a time of blending. This is the time of revelations and newness. We are discovering the shining threads of oneness that run just under all our radical differences. We are eating pizzas and raviolis these days, and we are discovering that tacos and burritos are not that different from rotis, rice, and vegetables. Why not sample the different cuisine and enjoy a new flavor, a new taste? Why not challenge the norms and create a new and more loving and inclusive way of life – a more human one… a spicier, exciting, and enriched global culture, and enjoy not just the process of creating it but the day-to-day living of it?

Why not create a new recipe?

Dec 8, 2012