Where there’s a Chaplin, there a Hoover.

 

Politics has always tried to smother creativity. Nowhere, have artists found complete freedom to express themselves. Right from the Catholic Church immolating the illuminati to the modern day ‘lobbied’ governments filtering the media the scope of imagination has always been confined to entertainment.

Charles Spencer Chaplin came to America to explore new avenues for acting. But, the land of opportunity didn’t extend a very warm welcome. He depicted this cold hearted gesture in his film The Immigrant. It was at this juncture that John Edgar Hoover, the FBI chief, intruded into the personal and professional life of Chaplin. Charlie Chaplin is known for vociferously portraying social issues in his silent films. On the other hand, Hoover had a strong dislike for him post a dinner party where Chaplin mocked Hoover over his anti communist idiosyncrasies. Form that night onwards Hoover wanted to bring Chaplin down to new lows where no individual had ever been before, and that too, on a public forum. While Chaplin was delivering classics after classics, incorporating issues like Capitalism, Great Depression and the Holocaust, Hoover was adamant on labeling him as anti American and a communist. Special agents were recruited to monitor Chaplin’s life on all fronts. His telephone lines were taped and his movements were recorded. His interactions, especially with women were under strict surveillance. Chaplin had to suffer a lot of character assassination when he was falsely implicated into taking legal custody of his alleged illegitimate daughter with an aspiring actress Joan Barry. Chaplin was falsely tagged a communist and eventually driven into exile with his wife Oona O’Neil.  J. Edgar Hoover, on the other hand served as the director of FBI for over 50 years.

Both Chaplin and Hoover are colossal figures of their traits. They both are legends with their share of followers. But, more significantly, both these individuals stand as symbols, with Hoover as the oppressor and Chaplin as the indomitable artistic spirit. The clash of their two ideologies is evident in everyday scenario where oppressor tries to dictate terms while the rebels never give up. The notion of who is good and who is bad, keeps on changing sides. Charlie Chaplin was an unconquered soul while John Edgar Hoover was a patriotic tyrant. They both lie within all individuals and whose side we cling on to, is our call for the making. Chaplin’s lifetime achievement award, given to him in the very country that out casted him is the proof of the fact that freedom always thrives over suppression.

 

जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

कहीं  किसी ग़रीब का बच्चा मर रहा है ,

कहीं कोई बेसहारा सर्दी से ठिठुर रहा रहा है ,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

कितनो के अरमानो कि चिताएँ जल रही हैं ,

कहीं किसी कि बेटी अनचाहे मन से कुछ कर रही है ,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

कोई पत्थर दिल कहीं मासूम मुस्कुराते फूलों को कुचल रहा है ,

किसी के मन में द्वेष तो किसी के मन में मलाल पल रहा है ,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

जिन अस्मिताओं को जागना था वो संसार में आने से पहले ही सो चुकी हैं ,

जिन प्रतिभाओं को उत्कृष्ठ होना था वो भयावह तम में खो चुकी हैं,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

जिन हौसलों को आसमान छूना था वो विकारों के चक्रव्यूह में फंस  चुके हैं ,

जिन ख़ूबसूरत पलों को दिल में संजोना था वो दलदल में धंस चुके हैं ,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

कहीं बूढ़ी आँखें किसी की  राह देखते सुर्ख़ हो चुकी हैं ,

कहीं नफरत की  आँधी लहू के बीज बो चुकी है ,

और मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो !

जहाँ  प्यार  का कोई मोल नहीं ,

जहाँ मिठास के दो बोल नहीं ,

जहाँ  हर ज़बान खून की  प्यासी है ,

जहाँ हर घर में मायूसी कि कोख़ में पलटी उदासी है ,

जहाँ चमक धमक के आगे  सच्चाई हार जाती है ,

जहाँ ईमान की आवाज़ सिसक कर रेह जाती है ,

जहाँ दोग़ले आदर्शों और सिसकती सच्चाई के बीच मंथन हो रहा है ,

ऐ खुदा, क्या ऐसी मक्कार दुनिया में मुझे जन्मदिन मुबारक हो ?!

The guy next door is no more

 

“Farooq Sheikh !! Cannot believe he is gone. There was an absence of any kind of pretense in his demeanor, or towards his work !!” tweeted Amitabh Bachchan paying his last respect to the veteran Farooq Sheikh who passed away after a heart attack on December 27^th, 2013. From actors to fans, most of  Twitter was flooded with grief messages to mourn the loss to the industry. Sheikh, 65, died in Dubai where he was for a concert. Sheikh was last seen in Bollywood movie ‘Club 60’.

His acting style was very subtle and effortless. He was best known for his work in Hindi films from 1977 to 1989 and for his work in television between 1988 and 2002. His major contribution was in Parallel Cinema or the New Indian Cinema. He had worked with directors like Satyajit Ray, Muzaffar Ali, Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Ketan Mehta.

He had acted in many tv shows and performed on stage in famous productions such as Tumhari Amrita (1992), alongside Shaban Azmi, directed by Feroz Abbas Khan. He won the 2010 National Film Award for Nest Supporting Actor for Lahore.

Initially, he worked with IPTA alongside directors like Sagar Sarhadi. He debuted in the 1973 film Garam Hawa in a supporting role besides Balraj Sahni. The film is credited for being a pioneer of a new wave of Hindi Art cinema. He formed a very successful pair with Deepti Naval. He went on to act in several notable films such as Satyajit Ray's Shatranj Ke Khiladi (1977), Noorie (1979), Chashme Buddoor (1981), Umrao Jaan, Bazaar, Saath Saath, Rang Birangi, Kissi Se Na Kehna (1983) and Biwi Ho To Aisi(1988) which are deemed as cult classics.

The entire film industry is going to miss this gentleman with hopes that the new talented pool of actors like Abhay Deol, Shreyas Talpade and others carry on with the leagcy of the guy next door that Sheikh brought the audiences so close to.

Fare thee well Eusebio

 

Eusebio da Silva, the Portugal football legend passed away on the 5^th of January due to heart failure leaving behind an unparalleled legacy. Also known as The Black Panther and The Black Pearl, he is regarded as one of the all time greats. Nicknamed the Black Panther, he was known for his speed, technique, athleticism and accurate right-footed shot, making him prolific goal scorer and one of the greatest free-kick takers in history. 

Eusébio da Silva Ferreira was born in the colonial capital of Lourenço Marques. He moved from his native Mozambique to the Portuguese club Benfica in 1961. His rise from poverty to stardom is the dream path that upcoming footballers should follow. He was the complete package who could rattle the opposition defense like a house of cards. In his career he scored 733 goals in 745 matches. He was top scorer seven times in the Portuguese league and was European Golden Boot winner twice. He won the Golden Boot for top scorer in the World Cup Finals, in England in 1966 with nine goals in six games.

After retiring from international circuit he lived in Portugal for the rest of his life, acting as a football ambassador for both his adopted country and Benfica. Tributes started pouring in from across the globe after Eusebio’s demise. "Portugal is mourning. Eusébio, the King of Portugal's 1966 team and the eternal symbol of the country, national team and Benfica passed away" said Portugese Football Federation.

He is survived by his wife, Flora, two daughters and several grandchildren.

THE EARTH IS 'SHAKIN N MOVIN'

I was about to call it a day and had just slipped into my warm mink blanket when the my cell phone vibrated, twice to be precise. I checked it but there wasn't any call, text or whatsapp message. Feeling dizzy I ignored this and wrapped the blanket around myself, when suddenly the phone vibrated again and this time not just the phone, but the table, the lamp the alarm clock and everything on the table started shaking. Before some stupid hollywood plot about hallucination could impede my thought process, I realized it was an earthquake. An earthquake, again? A week ago the National Capital Region (NCR) experienced familiar tremors, and again the ground beneath is jolting. Is it the wrath of god about the universal paap ka ghada or is it some divine alarm clock alerting the mango man that do not make a fool out of yourself again this election season or is it the tectonic plate mumble jumble? Anyhow, whatever it is, it is scary to never know whether the vibrations one experiences are from an empty stomach or from down under.

On a serious note, the rise in the frequency of these tremors is a cause of grave concern for the residents of NCR. Not only does such fiasco causes commotion but also it is a live wire risk for the 'not so quake proof' buildings of the capital. The greater risk is for the people who are devoid of home or are living in temporary arrangements that cannot bear the brunt of the quake that is not so sporadic now. But the grass is not too green on the other side as well. With most of the buildings violating the ground rules and not being built in quake resistant format despite New Delhi being in the most quake prone region, this city runs a great risk of endangering lives and properties with a magnitude which one fears to fathom.

The government needs to quicken the pace of preparation for meeting a disaster in case the need of the hour is such.  The multifold, so called, Disaster Management Committees need to conduct multiple mock drills for ensuring that people are do not meet the disaster unprepared and naked. 
                                                                 Beat the quake!

Hallowed Be 'My' Name

            Who am I? It is a question I repeatedly ask myself when I face obstructions in life. These obstructions are not the usual ones, but those that wake me up at three in the morning and force a question down my throat - What did I achieve yesterday that I sleep so soundly? It is at these moments that I realize that I am still a zero or to put more vociferously, my existence is as good as nothing. People do not give a damn thought as to who I am and what I achieved in life. How many people remember when I was born? How many people shall be affected if I were to die at this very moment? And then I have a clear picture in front of me which says that I am of no significance whatsoever to anybody - neither for those who squander away their life in vain nor to those who are so busy proving their worth to society that they don't have time for anyone. These not so sporadic 3 o' clocks in the mornings make me contemplate my plans about becoming what I aspire to be - a legend of my craft.

          I love watching biopics and interviews and my reading collection comprises of a good number of biographies/ autobiographies. My favorite film happens to be Chaplin(1992), needless to mention whose biopic it is. The last scene, where an aged Charlie Chaplin watches an assemblage of scenes from his films, during the Oscars where he is to be honored with Lifetime Achievement Award, and then with watery eyes he gets up from his wheelchair to deliver his speech , gives me goosebumps. I feel awestruck doesn't matter how many times I go through that scene. I imagine myself in Chaplin's shoes and for a brief period of time I feel the pride, the emotions, the respect and the admiration that is being bestowed. But, then reality resurfaces and I am left with nothing but a silence. But, that silence is not the usual one, it has a peculiar hum, a pulse that pours into my ears like molten wax. That feeling I suppose is that of a guilt I harbor due to my lack of efforts and the fact that I gave up so easily on occasions wherein a little more perseverance would have made things so much better for me.
               It is so easy to get inspired, motivated and sometimes the adrenalin rush takes away your sleep. Sometimes the admiration comes from legends like Chaplin, who are the torchbearers of their respective fields, and sometimes the zeal to achieve comes from people who hate you, who mock at your credentials, who try to undermine your potential and keep you down. I have had so many of such nincompoops who feel that entire sphere is their baap ka maal and who have no desire to innovate as they have surrendered to the cliched yet ever so successful formula of CCP (cut-copy-paste). I am quite sure that this isn't just my observation because such degraded and rotten specimens of homo sapiens are all around us - here, there and everywhere! The frustration sometimes gets the better of me and I feel like quitting everything and leave for the mountains as a hermit. But, at such torrid times the biographies come to my aid and I am reminded of the countless impediments the legends had to face to get where they stand now.
               I know I am nothing as of now and my credentials do not speak volumes about my talent but still the seed of inspiration that was sown in my heart long ago has germinated and the roots have spread deep. There is no turning back for me, I have left the comforts of life behind and a thorny path awaits me. It beckons me towards a plethora of challenges and quests that are yet unconquered and perhaps I can vanquish those yet unscaled peaks. Jim Moriarty from the BBC series Sherlock famously remarked, staying alive can be boring 'cause its just staying!. I don't want to stay stagnant, like a river I want to flow and flow vigorously, pounding every distraction and surpassing every impediment.
              Lastly, I wind up this disquisition with the most innate desire of mine. I want to die as a legend leaving behind a cult that has but only one emotion for me - respect! So what am I doing to be inspired right now? I am listening to 'Cult of Personality' by Living Colors, which by the way is CM Punk's titantron!! \m/

प्यार : वो भी था और ये भी है!!

उस ज़माने का प्यार ........
पेड़ों के इर्द गिर्द झूमता वो प्यार ........
उन पेड़ों की शाखाओं  पर बैठे दो पंछियों सा प्यार .........
वो प्यार ......
आपस में लिपटी फूलों की पंखुड़ियों के जैसा परस्पर वो प्यार ...........
चाँद को तोड़ लाने वाले वादों सा वो प्यार ...............
साथ जीने मरने की कसमों सा वो प्यार ................
वो प्यार ...........
प्रियतम के इंतज़ार में जलती बुझती शमा सा वो प्यार ..............
पहली छुअन के एहसासों से वक़्त के पैमाने पे थमा सा वो प्यार ..............
वो प्यार ...............
वो प्यार ना जाने कहाँ खो सा गया है !
इस ज़माने का प्यार ........
चुनाव से पहले बनती गलत - सलत नीतियों सा ये प्यार ...................
मीठे कि महक से सनक उठतीं 'लाल चीटियों' सा ये प्यार ..........
ये प्यार .........
पल पल बदलते फेसबुक के स्टेटस सा ये प्यार ...............
भावनाओं कि कसौटी पर बेबस सा ये प्यार .................
ये प्यार ...........
इस खोखले समाज के तानों सा ये प्यार ......
चोरी के फ़िल्मी गानों सा ये प्यार ........
शरीर पर लगी गुम चोट सा ये प्यार .......
किसी शातिर के दिल में छुपे खोट सा ये प्यार ............
ये प्यार ............
ना और लिख सकूंगा कि दिल के दर्द से स्याही भी लाल है .................
जो कभी पुख़ता सच था वो आज बस ख्याल है ..............
पर दिल दिलासा देता है कि ना घबरा मेरे दोस्त के अभी भी कुछ तो ठीक है…
ऐसे परवाने अभी भी ज़िंदा हैं जिनके लिए मुहब्बत पवित्रता कि गरिमा का प्रतीक है .............