It’s deeper but just as transparent

It's funny how social media works. I research and curate some posts to make collages, but they get no traction. However, a random snapshot from Wikipedia can go viral. I was reading about Payal Kapadia, who made history at the Cannes Film Festival by winning the Grand Prix for her film All We Imagine As Light. The title reminds me of Anthony Doerr's novel All The Light We Cannot See. The titles of all of Kapadia's films are poetic. I love such titles that have an underlying melancholy and intrigue. I planned to go to Cannes when I was living in Luxembourg as it was not far. A train could take just a few hours. Unfortunately, it was peak Covid, and the festival was canceled, so I could not go. Alas! But I managed to go to the Berlin Film Festival (which was right before Covid), where I met Baradwaj Rangan. These festivals are a little overhyped in the media. They are normal, like any other festival.

Anyhow, this was the long weekend, and as always, I had nothing planned. I wanted to finish so many things, but I did nothing much except workout and a little reading—the only things that keep me sane these days, or else I go into cycles of negativity. I wanted to go for a haircut, but the place I usually go to, I am always a bit skeptical as to how it will turn out. Every time there is someone new, I don't like it much. They either cut too short or don't cut enough. So, I decided to find another place. I randomly took the light rail (metro) to the south of the city and walked around the neighborhood to find a hair salon. When I was walking, I saw this interesting art piece. It is a little jarring to see shoes over a bowl of food (like how we never put shoes over books), but what inspired me was the quote by Alan Chong Lau written below it. "Who we are is not what we wear or eat; it’s deeper but just as transparent." It is so thoughtful, and it uses contrasts to make the point. I love finding these random things in the city which I try to put on Instagram.

So, I got a decent haircut (50% cheaper than the usual price I usually pay at the other place). The other thing is that I have started coloring my hair. My hair had some sections of grey hair even when I was in my early 20s, but now, they are substantially more. It does not look good because it is not uniform, and when the hair grows, it flows to the birthmark on my face. So I color my hair black. When my mother sees it, she always asks have you colored your hair and I tell her no. I tell her I had a haircut, haha. She can immediately notice it.

As it is the time of social media, I see all the reels and stories of people traveling. Some days, I want to travel the world; some days, I feel it is all fine, and I don't want to go anywhere. Try to find happiness in your daily moments. As I write this, I think of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. In the film's iconic ending, Bauji lets go of Simran and tells her to live her life, "Jaa, Simran, Jaa. Jee le apni zindagi." Earlier in the film, he tells her the same words when she takes his permission to go to Europe. Contrast this with Raj and his father when he seeks permission to go on the same trip. Raj failed his examinations, so he said he would not go on the trip and would join the office with his father. "Main apni puri jawani jee chuka hun," he says. His Pops immediately stops him and says to never utter the same words again. Pops spent all his life working and never got a chance to enjoy his youth, so he wants Raj to live it up for him. Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge is also a story of immigrant fathers and their sacrifices. The one who moved away from his home and never traveled in twenty years. The other spent all his life working, did not marry again, and raised a child. Anybody not born into a family of privilege can identify with these struggles. This also reminds me of an article by Manu Joseph, who wrote, "Indians scorn 'dynasties' but are raising pampered children."

Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge might feel a bit dated now, but it is still immensely moving. The film acknowledges Lajjo's sacrifices. When she takes her jewelry and gives it to Simran and Raj and asks them to elope, she does it because she does not want her daughter to make the sacrifices she did. I also think of the sagacious Chutki, about whom I had written a post years ago.

As always, I segue into random topics. I will come back soon. 

Dialogue of the Day:
"Aadatein agar waqt par na badli jaayein toh zarooratein ban jaati hai."

—Chutki, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge

Birthday Post—Age 37

It is time for my annual birthday post. I just went through all the old birthday posts on the blog and realized that I have written a post on my birthday since 2009. My god, that is fifteen years. Some older posts made me cringe, just as Geet from Jab We Met had said, "Kitni paagal thi main." But it has shown the growth in me. So, there is no point deleting those. I deleted birthday details from Facebook and Twitter, so only not many people remembered it. Only a few close friends and family members wished me. It is fine; I don't really care much about birthdays anymore. I did not even realize till last week that it is coming soon. My father says a birthday is also a reminder of being one year closer to mortality. I did nothing much except eat some nice food. I got a nice present from S. And I bought a shirt for myself. I am trying to dress well because how you present yourself matters. 

Gift from S

As I wrote earlier, I am sad because things are not working for me. But I don't want to write the same thing again today. I will figure things out gradually. No one is coming to save you, so you are your own best friend. One thing I do not do anymore, which I used to do till a few years ago, is to portray myself as a victim of circumstances. We all have to deal with the cards that we are dealt with. It's called life. Everyone is dealing with their luck, their choices, and their actions—all three of which define our lives.

I have not written much these days, but I have to finish my favorite moments from 2023 films even though it is six months into the new year. When I think of 2023 films, I think of the climactic moments of Ponniyin Selvan: II between Nandini and Aditha—a stunning portrayal of love and sacrifice. Or the lovely moment between Dilton and Reggie in The Archies, where Reggie tells Dilton that he knows his feelings for him and will not tell anyone because it is his story. Or that moment from Satya Prem Ki Katha where Sattu's mother advises that if you cannot help someone in pain, at least don't make it worse. And many more about which I should write soon. Also, Shah Rukh might have had three blockbusters last year, but honestly, I will not watch any of those films again. They are not for me. 

I also got messages from three-four friends to write about Heeramandi. They all loved it. I started watching it and will take time to finish and write about it. But in one of the early episodes, there is a moment when Alam writes poetry in her diary resting on Tajdar's heart. And then he writes back on her heart. It is a tiny little moment but so beautiful in its conception. I think I will try to write about these lines of beauty. Meanwhile, I just finished Laapataa Ladies, which is lovely and made me tear up a bit in the final moments when Manju Mai eats kalakand. I am finishing the post about it soon. 

Anyway, I hope to gain the clarity to move ahead in life. Ask, believe, receive. Nam myoho renge kyo. Jagmag jot hot ujiyaara, gagan sot par chandr nihaara. 

Amar Singh Chamkila—Ishq Mitaye, Ishq Banaye

Who knew Imtiaz Ali would find his mojo back with a biopic? Biopics are some of the most boring films for me because their storytelling is dull, or they are turned into hagiographies, ignoring that humans are complex. Ali challenges these conventions in Amar Singh Chamkila and makes a beautiful film that does not necessarily provide all the details but provides sufficient context for its eponymous hero. Amar Singh Chamkila tells the story of the singer Chamkila (Diljit Dosanjh). Born as Dhani Ram in a poor family, Chamkila found fame and popularity for his songs, often described as lewd and vulgar. Known as the Elvis of Panjab (sic), he was a Dalit who sang in akhaaras with his wife, Amarjot (Parineeti Chopra). They both were eventually shot dead by unknown people for reasons that, till today, are not clear. The film asks questions about artistic freedom and morality that are relevant today. Who decides if his songs are obscene? Are they not part of the lived reality of people? How were his songs different from the ones that women sing during ladies' sangeet?

Early in Amar Singh Chamkila, a young Chamkila sees a woman accusing a man of having an affair and getting a boner—khada. He asks his mother about the meaning of khada, but she shuts him down. Then, during a wedding ceremony, women sing and dance to a song about boners. This influences him to write about boners, but he is punished by his teacher, a sign of what he will face in adulthood, too. He sees men stealthily watching women bathing. He sees men and women having sex. These events shaped his worldview, and he started writing about them in his songs. As we have seen earlier, the worldview of Ali's characters is shaped when they are young. Childhood never really leaves them. In Tamasha, the young Ved was fascinated with storytellers, which became his life calling. In Highway, the young Mahabir saw the sexual abuse of his mother, which broke him mentally and made him see his mother in Veera. In Amar Singh Chamkila, too, there is a moment when he sees his father being kicked and physically abused. In Laila Majnu, the young eponymous couple met as kids at a wedding, which tied them together. They saw each other even in their dreams. In Jab Harry Met Sejal, Harry left home and never forgot it. In Love Aaj Kal (2020), Raghu and Leena met during their teens. Even after all these years, Raghu never forgot her, making him incapable of being in long-term relationships.

Chamkila then grows up and finds a job in a sock factory, but his heart is not in it. He finds passion in singing. He sits before a well with his tumbi, singing into the void. He starts writing lyrics for other singers till he, by chance, gets to sing himself. He is loved by the audience and then decides to take it up professionally. His father soon finds out about his singing. In a stunningly shot scene that uses the interplay of light, Chamkila offers him money, making his father forget all his issues. Again, the parallels with Ved cannot be missed. Ved lost his identity while working in a corporate job. He used to run away to listen to stories. His father sends him to a boarding school that suppresses his dil ki awaaz. But Chamkila was smart enough. He was already prepared to confront his father.

Chamkila knows the kind of songs people want to hear and enjoy. He partners with Amarjot to sing across akhaaras and gains more fame. As it happens, with fame came his detractors. His competitors try to fan negative sentiment against him. An interesting scene in the film is when Chamkila is interviewed by a journalist (Sahiba Bali). He initially tries to not see her directly as she is wearing pants. The journalist mocks him for his hypocrisy that he can write offensive lyrics about women but cannot see a woman in jeans. He replies that he sings about what he has seen in life, and his songs reflect that. He is an ordinary person who sings what ordinary people like to listen to; otherwise, he wouldn't be an artist. The scene is a reminiscence of the journalist character from Rockstar, played by Aditi Rao Hydari. But it again shows that if Chamkila only gave what his audience would hear, who would decide the morality of his content? It is the same argument we hear even today related to music remixes. Producers make remixes because people listen to them, or is it the other way around?

As one reflects more on the film, it comes to mind that Ali had already shown us snippets of Amar Singh Chamkila in his earlier films. For instance, think of the scene when Aditya meets Geet's grandfather in Jab We Met. Chamkila visiting the religious leaders who ask him to stop singing gives the same vibes as Geet's grandfather. Or think of the scene where Chamkila's albums start selling like hotcakes; something similar was seen in Rockstar when Jordan's albums began selling. There is also a Khatana Bhai-like character in Amar Singh Chamkila, again played by Kumud Mishra. Or think of the ending scene when Chamkila and Amarjot are on the stage, identical to Tamasha's ending. Or the scene where the bright light glow can be seen on Chamkila's face when he sits outside. It is just like the glow on Ved's face when he calls Tara's name in Tamasha.

Many other scenes remind one of Ali's earlier films, like the concept of waqt. When Chamkila convinces Amarjot to sing with him, he tells her, "Yeh apna waqt chal raha hai, Babbi. Aur main guarantee deta hun, yeh hamesha nahi rahega." When he refuses to stay in Canada, he counters his friend by saying, "Yeh waqt bura hai? Yeh hi to waqt hai." People are listening to him now; he cannot just sit at home. Remember what Geet tells Aditya in Jab We Met before she runs away with him. She said, "Yeh jo waqt hai na yahan jo hum kaat rahe hai, ye bahut accha time hai, dekhna aage chal kar hum ise yaad karenge aur hasenge." In Laila Majnu, Qais tells Laila, "Duniya hai, duniyadari hoti hai. Time hai," after she asks for more time to finalize her divorce.

One of the other peculiar things about Amar Singh Chamkila is that it called Punjab Panjab. It is entirely intentional, given the subtitles also call it Panjab. There are many theories by scholars on whether this should be the correct spelling of Punjab, but the film never explains this aspect. Ali, though, has always had an interest in Panjab. Ever since Jab We Met, Panjab and Sikhs have appeared in his films. Geet was a Sikhni who lived in Bathinda. In Love Aaj Kal, Veer and Harleen were Sikhs. The Panjabi women sang La La Ho Gayi Re in Thoda Thoda Pyar. The film ended with Bhangra dancers dancing on Aahun Aahun. In Rockstar were the songs Katiya Karun and Sadda Haq Aithe Rakh. In Tamasha, the musicians with tumbi who showed up in Heer Toh Badi Sad Hai were Sikhs. In Jab Harry Met Sejal, Harry is from Panjab, and the film is based on his desire to come home.

Ali is quite inventive in the storytelling of Amar Singh Chamkila. He incorporates real-life video footage from Chamkila's life into the film (something we also saw in Class of '83). He adds still black-and-white photographs of Chamkila and recreates those moments. He uses split screens. He even uses animation to depict some sequences. (We also saw brief snippets in Tamasha when Ali showed paintings depicting the phases of Ved's life.) He shot all the songs at live locations. He provided the full lyrics for Chamkila's songs in Hindi as text. In this regard, the contribution of the film's editor, Aarti Bajaj, cannot be ignored. It is quite well done. The fabulous montages (which Ali's films are also known for) are another highlight of the film.

Not only in its storytelling, but Amar Singh Chamkila also emphasizes the very act of storytelling. Once upon a time is often how Ali's films begin. In this film as well, there is the act of storytelling. The story of Chamkila is told to us by different people after his death. Each of these people describes their view of the story. Tikki (Anjum Batra) first spoke about his relationship with Chamkila. Then, his other band members start sharing his story. Then, the story is continued by his other friend, Sivia (Apinderdeep Singh). The police inspector Dalbir Singh (Anuraag Arora) is the listener of this story. He had always listened to Chamkila's songs but pretended he did not know much about him. By the end, he becomes sympathetic to Chamkila and lets his son listen to his songs. That is why stories are transformational. They help us understand something better.

In many places, the film equates Chamkila and Amitabh Bachchan. Early on, Chamkila styles his hair like Bachchan at Vijay Hair Dresser. He is called by the panchayat after he marries Amarjot without revealing his first marriage. He compares himself to Bachchan and performs in front of the villagers. Later, he convinces Amarjot to sing with him as the public is ready to pay them a lot. Their music records were sold in black, just like Bachchan's films were. His friend Sivia says that he even started looking like Bachchan. He starts dressing like him. The jeans. The shirts. The swag. When he refuses to quit smoking, the animation shows him lighting up with Bachchan's swagger. In Canada, Chamkila sees Bachchan on the billboards and finds out he is performing at the same theatre where Bachchan had performed. The manager tells him they had to put nearly a thousand extra chairs for his show compared to Bachchan's. Hearing this, Chamkila is left dejected. He had surpassed the popularity of his childhood hero. He might have won all the fame, but as an artist, he lost something forever.

In moments such as the above, Amar Singh Chamkila touched upon the thinking of kalaakars. It does not go into much detail, but there are flashes of what it means to be an artist. When Panjab is going through turmoil, Mr. Ahmed (Kumud Mishra), like Khatana Bhai in Rockstar, asks Chamkila to continue to sing. When people are already sad, they don't want to listen to sad songs. They want to listen to lively music to make them forget their pain. Later, Chamkila turned to sing religious songs, but his fans insisted that he sing his original songs. He gives in to their demands. Do artists have to be humble to the wishes of their fans? Can they take the risk of reinventing themselves without losing their audience?

An Imtiaz Ali film will surely have lovely music, and Amar Singh Chamkila does not disappoint. Each song has its special place in the album and is fabulously choreographed. Ali is one of the few filmmakers focusing on creating new music rather than using old remixes. The album has six songs, five of which make it to the film. The first song in the film is Baaja. Chamkila and Amarjot are about to sing at a wedding. As soon as they get out of the car, they are shot dead. Moments later, Baaja begins with Mohit Chauhan making a special appearance. The song is presented like Chali Kahani of Tamasha, and Yeh Dooriyaan of Love Aaj Kal, where Chamkila's life story is narrated. Surly men break the fourth wall to tell us, "Jis wajah se chamka, us wajah se tapka." He was, "Chamkila, sexila, tharkila."

In the past, Ali has often used external objects to depict the gradual change in his characters' internal state. In Love Aaj Kal, Jai was happy when he went to San Francisco, as Main Kya Hoon shows. However, he slowly realized something was amiss in his life. Jai collected packets of mayonnaise. By the song's end, the bowl is full, signifying he cannot take it anymore. In Tamasha, the lack of Tara's smile shows her decaying relationship with Ved. When Ved used to leave after dropping her, Tara's smile gradually disappears as she realizes that Ved is not behaving like he did in Corsica. In Amar Singh Chamkila, travel by car is used to depict the nascent increase in the closeness of Chamkila and Amarjot. Amarjot's brother always came in between the two when they traveled in a car till one instance where Amarjot decided to sit next to Chamkila. This sequence eventually concludes in Tu Kya Jaane, another fabulous song from the film. The song is presented like Amarjot's dream, in which the background has a halo effect. The lyrics talk about the woman talking about her beloved—tann ka taj bhi, man ka raj bhi. She then says she will fight against the world for her beloved. Jitt loon zamane se main jung karke, tujh pe duppatte wala rang karke, suit se apne main loongi mila, rakhna tujhe seene pe ab maine haaye.

The third song, Ishq Mitaye, appears in the film in 1984, when Panjab is reeling from riots and terrorism. Contrary to societal rules, Chamkila decides not to give up singing during troubled times. He wants to give people some joy during difficult times of their lives. He continues to sing all over Panjab and is mobbed wherever he goes. The song is absolutely fantastic and pays tribute to Chamkila's life. It says, "Ishq mitaye haye haye, ni maye, mera ishq banaye haye haye." Love destroys; love creates—a perfect description of Chamkila's life, just like Baaja also said, "Jis wajah se chamka, us wajah se tapka." The lyrics of this song have political undertones comparing Chamkila's life with Panjab—Main hoon Panjab. There is also a beautiful phrase, "Jeeve agg meri sara jal mera jeeve," which means my inner fire and water may thrive. When this line appears, we see the fire inside the dancers on the screen. This is reminiscent of the burning guitar scene in Rockstar, where fire and water were present when Jordan was in the bathtub.

The most memorable song sequence in the film, however, is the fabulously choreographed Naram Kaalja. It completely contrasts Baaja, where men talk about Chamkila. In Naram Kaalja, it is all women and their naram kaalja. Tender heart. The men seemed angry in the former, while the women light up this song with their charm. Naram Kaalja begins when an older woman says she stealthily listens to Chamkila's songs. She says his songs are not much different from the songs that women sing themselves during wedding ceremonies. Then, many young women secretly turn on the record player to listen and dance to his songs. The lyrics are a tribute to the type of songs that Chamkila used to sing. Here, the women sing about their auratpan and how men are only a means to their desire—aish ka saamaan. The women acknowledge their societal relations but say their desire takes higher precedence. Devar ki bhabhi bhi main hun, rishtey qabuloon, par yeh na bhooloon, kaise bhujhani hai jo agg lag jaaye. The song has all types of women: young girls, college-going women, newly married women, working women, and older women. They all sing and dance as if Chamkila has given a voice to their desires. Women went crazy listening to Chamkila; even roofs on houses fell when women gathered, earning him the moniker kotha dhau kalaakar. It is sheer joy to watch this song and be delighted; the last song I recall that had this similar feeling was Chak Chak in Atrangi Re.

Amar Singh Chamkila ends in quietness. At the funeral of Chamkila and Amarjot, there is a somber silence. Not many words are spoken. I remembered how Love Aaj Kal (2020) had also ended in silence when Raghu visited Leena's tea café. He discovers she is pregnant and realizes his time to be with her is gone. No words are spoken, only gestures, and then he leaves. After the funeral in Amar Singh Chamkila, the melancholic Vida Karo plays. As the title suggests, it is a farewell song in the film's final moments. Chamkila is asking people to let him go as he has been problematic and impure. Tum sabhi paak magar, paap ka dariya main. It is profoundly moving. I don't like many of Arijit Singh's sad songs, but this one is beautiful. It could be because it is more conversational rather than singing. The song is, in fact, inspired by Shiv Kumar Batalvi's Mainu Vida Karo.

Diljit Dosanjh is fabulous as Chamkila and gets to the skin of the character. Parineeti Chopra is good as Amarjot. Other performances, especially Tikki (Anju Batra) and Inspector Dalbir Singh (Anuraag Arora), are memorable. Many of the themes, such as artistic freedom and censorship, raised by Amar Singh Chamkila find resonance even today. Ali asked the right questions but might not have provided all the answers. No film is perfect, but given Ali's last few films, Amar Singh Chamkila is a win. Who knew Imtiaz Ali would find his mojo back with a biopic?

Trivia:

1. Amarjot reads many Punjabi books in the film. Here, she reads Chitta Lahu by Nanak Singh.

2. An interesting thing about the poster is that it is more Rangeela than Chamkila. 

3. Window scenes in Amar Singh Chamkila.

4. Diljit Dosanjh had sung Ikk Kudi in Udta Punjab, also written by Shiv Kumar Batalvi.

Other Reading:

1. On the films of Imtiaz Ali—Link
2. On Laila Majnu—Link
3. On Tamasha—Link
4. On Agar Tum Saath Ho—Link
5. On Rockstar—Link
6. On Highway—Link
7. On Tara in Tamasha—Link
8. On Jab We Met—Link
9. On Jab Harry Met Sejal—Link
10. On Love Aaj Kal (2009)—Link
11. On Love Aaj Kal (2020)—Link

12. On Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Tamasha—Link

Dialogue of the Day:

"Jeeve agg meri sara jal mera jeeve."

—Amar Singh Chamkila

The Heart Wants It But Does Not Get It

After ages, I finally understand this line: Sukh hai alag aur chain alag hain. The last few weeks have been too difficult because of everything happening. I don't feel like doing anything and am getting a few tests done. I am turning thirty-seven in ten days and don't feel good about it. I feel very left behind in life. I know comparison is the thief of joy, but I am not comparing myself with anyone but with my goals. When I was young, probably one year old, a priest told my uncle about me in a temple in Mathura that this child is very lucky. He said it because I have this birthmark on my face. I still remember this line, which my mother told me a few years ago. I don't feel good about it now because I feel left behind. My parents keep asking for marriage, but it has not been easy to make up my mind for that as well. Love is hard to find these days. It is fine. I will be fine like I always am. I write here when I am sad, but I will also write when I am happy. I may delete this post in a few days. Meanwhile, I am watching all the scenes of Sid from Dil Chahta Hai again. I love it when he paints Tara's lips on her portrait with his hands. This film is special and will always be special.