Road, Movie... Life

Some things, instances…relationships are meant to be bottled up and preserved…meant for some brewing and maturing time before you jump the gun and shoot from the hip. Some thoughts, actions and reactions need to be internalised completely, rinsed dry, before one attempts to spew them out. Some images and stories also fall in this category.

Vishnu is the quintessential know-it-better-than-though youngster who literally thinks that child is the father of man (the hindi translation, not the philosophical one). Chacha is the bridge between generations, the faint common code that binds. Apu (no name lad), the dis-passionate, disconnected but smelling real attachment (as real love is only as rare, if not rarer than water in the desert) from the dis-attached distance gen-next. The banjaran is the lure, maya…the motivation to be a better man…to find the one within you and wrench him out of hiding….just about reason enough…but then maybe not.

The desert is the real thing…the without make-up, real artist pushing all to their limits but always winning in the end. The travelling cinema is the magician we all crave for to set things right…or atleast forget the wrong ones…if only till the spool runs out. Even this mirage in the desert is a lil victory…a tiny blip that will carry through in the morbid days of battle.

The characterisation works… so the film works. It’s a travelogue of life…seep it in. sit back in the sand, sink in your elbows, let the wind blow the sand in your hair…and let the pctr begn.