The Health Diary - Part I

You are sweating profusely. The T-shirt is clinging to the body. The small towel is of no use anymore. You are breathless. Your throat is parched. You are sticky and stinking. Yet you don’t want to stop or lie down. You are walking heartily. You are gulping air, through your nose. You are exhausted, excited, hopeful, all in equal measure. A strange calmness and brightness is the end of most physical workout sessions.

  

At some level, I believe in extreme self-interest. Every individual is so self centered that nobody else matters, be it parents, spouse, kids, or friends. Many of life’s challenges, one has to face oneself, and the only companion is one’s body. In advancing age, when many social support systems can falter, the body is what stands. Conversely, it can be a very lonely life if the body does not support a person, despite having many people around. The read somewhere - ‘be healthy, you cannot have a happy life if you are unwell’. I hold to the maxim dearly.

I believe in doing everything to preserve my body. For someone who has been physically inactive during the formative years, this was a big leap. Somehow an idea got ingrained very early that I am innately an unfit person. Pursuing fitness was like a parallel, alien, mutually exclusive universe. But the last decade and a half have been about constantly finding ways to get better. It gradually descended on me that fitness is not a parallel world. It has to coexist.

Broadly there are two aspects to fitness - a physical exercise routine, and diet (there is a third aspect as well - emotional quotient, mental state, attitudes and beliefs, social relations etc. which can all contribute to mental well-being, but not delving into that here). The relative importance of these two is a subject of constant debate, just like with most things related to fitness. While it is considered that diet has a bigger role, still both are important. Especially when one is talking about staying fit and not just about reducing weight. Staying fit is a broader, continuous endeavour.

The extent of information around fitness is humongous. It is hard not to find a newspaper article everyday. And largely it confuses. One, because fitness is a vast topic with complex interplay of numerous causes and effects. Two, because fitness is an individual trait and each person’s body is different. There are many gaps in understanding the factors, or genetic codes, which cause the differences between individuals. Even if we decode the genetic differences, it will likely be a large pool of genes which are at play. Thus it is tricky to be able to cover all aspects of fitnesses concisely in one, or even a reasonable set of formulae.

When it comes to regimen of physical exercise, there are many schools. Yoga, weight training, cardio, HIIT, routines like zumba, pilates, tai chi and many more. Each has its pros and cons and there are sworn proponents of each. I belong to the camp which says ‘Anything goes’. If staying fit is the goal, I believe any of these is fine. But if there is a specific target, say building muscles, training for a particular sport, for trekking, or for marathoning, then a particular routine may be more appropriate.

I am happy that I have tried different things at different times. And I am willing to try more. I believe that as long as I am able to devote an hour daily to a reasonably strenuous physical exercise, I am good. Not having any specific target keeps the mind free. Important point is to define ‘strenuous’? I do not consider walking, even brisk walking (I can do 7 km in 1 hour) to be sufficiently strenuous. I read somewhere that if one is able to sing while doing a physical activity, then that is a low intensity activity. If one is not able to sing but able to talk, then that is a moderate intensity activity. And if one is not even able to talk, then that is ‘high intensity’ activity. It is a reasonable benchmark which allows for individual differences. If not high intensity, I do target moderate intensity at least. Another personal checkpoint for me is the extent of sweating. Because I sweat easily, if I have not sweated well at the end of a 45 minutes session (even in Delhi winters), it means that I have not exerted sufficiently. On the other hand, there are few feelings of pure joy, and contentment which match the end of a routine when I am continuously wiping sweat.

This leads to another guiding principle - the level of fitness is not (just) the extreme level one reaches but rather how fast one can cool down. I check how quickly my breathing returns to normal.

Initially, jogging was the only exercise I would do. Interest in it started with the plan to run a half marathon (HM) around eight years back. In order to prepare for it, I started to jog regularly. I still remember the peak I hit was when I ran for 1 hour 12 minutes without a break. I have not repeated that since. Still I am proud that my HM timings have been on a downward trend against advancing age - from peak of 2:48 in 2011 to low of 2:11 in 2018. It is nice to sermonise about HM. People are so apprehensive about it. I maintain that anybody with even minor fitness can do it. I have seen many finish it without any practise. And practise itself is not that intense. I have never run a HM in practise, not even half of it. What helps is consistent exercising.    

Exercising can be a strange beast. The body feels differently everyday. It is not unusual when a workout feels great, movements feel effortless, and you feel like carrying on for more hours. Or days when the opposite happens - when you have to cajole the body to move, when it is a strain to fill each minute. This can be even stark for high intensity workout like jogging. Agree, there are factors like levels of stress, sleep, diet, etc. But still there is an element of mystery to how different each day can be. When the body is in sync, then a workout is sheer exhilaration. Few things can beat that thrill and satisfaction. The key remains to find a rhythm. This is something I keep saying to myself while jogging, to find a steady state of breathing, motion, evenness of thought.

This mystery around body is what makes the world of sports - all elite sportsmen practise relentlessly, but there is an uncertainty over what version will turn up on a given day. They will talk about something not feeling right from the word go, or vice versa. The best of them are able to put these differences aside and bring their best version most often. Most of the adjustment is mental - ‘mind over matter’, a clunky cliche but one which I strongly subscribe to. Any workout requires as much of mental input as physical. These are like two parallel systems which need to be in sync for the workout. My mind is constantly reading my body signals - rate of breath, niggling pain in knees, shoulder, middle back etc, or a nauseating feeling. In response I have to tell my mind to convince my body to keep going. That is ‘mind over matter’, to be able to control the body through mind.

Both mind as well as body are stronger and more flexible than we realise, it is just that we are not able to push them further or do not know how to manipulate them. If I start a weight training with a repetition target of 15, I would typically start feeling tired at 11 or 12. But if I start initially with the thought of doing 20, the fatigue sets in usually after 15. Over time, we fix the repetition levels of most workouts - jogging rounds, weights, time to hold a position. Breaking that benchmark is difficult, because it requires mental rewiring. The brain has to be reprogrammed upfront that today I am going to run 55 minutes instead of the usual 45. Even then, it would not be easy. At 45 minutes, the body would start sending frantic signals to the mind to stop. I have felt it so often, and so strongly, like there is another person inside. At that point, I am shouting to my mind and my mind to my body to just keep going. I have catchphrases for myself for such occasions, like Robert Frost’s ‘woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep’, or something like ‘I have plenty of miles in my legs still’, Yet, there are occasions when the body wins.

Many-a-times, it is the brain itself which is the trouble maker. It starts with a mental niggle, a thought like ‘I did not sleep well last night’, ‘Yesterday was a stressful day at work’, or ‘the weather is too hot and humid today’. It creeps in like a malware, and then it starts to multiply and expand, threatening like an alien. And it easily controls the body which is looking to yield at the slightly pretext. I have to force myself to not let such thoughts enter my system before a workout.

MoM as a construct is infallible. Because MoM applies when the chips are down, it has no role when the body is strong and the mind is calm. It is about fighting it out. My most HMs are examples of MoM at some level. Sleep is scarce on the night before the HM because of the nervous energy flowing through the body. And then one has to start early. Yet HM is completed. I call this ‘running on adrenaline’. It is the excitement of mind, the pull of the target, the determination generated from the non-negotiability of the event, which makes one complete it. An equally important factor is the environment. The combined energy of thousands of co-runners, the comfort of knowing that there are others who are sharing your miseries (many are smiling), the inspiration from those who are dragging themselves to do better, the awe of performers beyond your own capabilities, the unexplained urge to do better than somebody whom you do not know at all - all these factors help in overcoming the HM.  

Another way to think of MoM is what I call ‘running through the pain barrier’. It is about enduring pain to such an extent that it ceases to matter. If anything, I have felt that while running, many of the niggles which I feel before or during, actually vanish as I keep going.

Yoga is an enriching experience. Ideally I should have a teacher, but like most things, I trudge alone. Book by BKS Iyengar is a great guide. Although 60% of the asanas in that are unthinkable for me, but the rest 40% are sufficient to last me a long time, if not a lifetime. Yoga is a vast, multifaceted discipline. The purpose is not to exhaust like a gym routine, yet it can give a complete test, stress to the body. In fact, it can leave one energised, although I am yet to reach that stage.

For most physical workouts, breathing is a parallel element. It is about controlling the breath while doing an exercise. That makes the exercise more effective. Also, it keeps the mind active. In yoga, breath or shwas is an essential component. It flows through the body and acts as a conduit. What is required is to be able to feel it, and then control it. I was told by a yoga instructor that yoga teaches to breathe only through the nose. The mouth has to remain shut throughout. I am practicing that. To be able to do that during cardio routines such as running would need a lot of practise. In yoga controlling the breathe is an advanced form, called pranayama. I find deep breathing highly therapeutic. But it is an intense physical and mental exercise which is tough to master.  

Yoga is about union of body, mind and soul. Mindfulness is a fancy, fad, term. But in yoga or working out, it can be especially useful. It would mean being in the moment, to focus on movement of each part of the body, how the muscles are moving, how to balance the breathing. Bringing mind into a workout improves concentration. Another aspect of yoga is to perfect each posture, which involves recognition of the fact that even minor movement, the slightest twitch, can make a huge difference. I am still to perfect the toe-touch or padangusthasana because I am not able to keep my knees ram-rod erect. In most exercises we inadvertently introduce cheat movements which make them easier. But correct posture, to the minutest detail, is everything. It may be the fulcrum of the whole exercise, that tiny muscular movement which can multiply the difficulty level of the routine. It requires relentless practice and persistence with the correct posture, even if initially one does just 20-30% of the exercise.

Yoga differs from a gym routine in that it focuses a lot on balance and flexibility. It is not necessarily about losing weight, becoming lean, or developing muscles. But it is about strengthening and making agile the body one already has. Advanced yoga postures require unimaginable contortions of the body. Or maintaining balance. And all this requires innate strength of the muscles. Headstand is a famous example of a strong and balanced body. Yet, yoga differs from the other disciplines in that tranquility is the end goal. There is a serenity to a well performed asana, like a ballet. It is not brutal or grotesque like a gym workout.

Also, it is not about exhibitionism. It is about using the body, and its balance to attain an evenness of mind, a stability of thought. Achieving a posture is one thing, but holding it for a reasonable period is another. This requires constant interaction between the mind and the body. A still mind can lead to a still body and vice versa. I have an inkling of this concept, and felt it on occasions, but I am a long way from mastering it.      

Most importantly, yoga allows me to be in a park early in the morning. The feeling is indescribable. Even during peak summers, early morning hours are great for mind and body. The air is fresh. The monster which is a megacity has barely woken up, allowing some time to serenity. It is mostly elders who are walking gingerly, or attempting to move their limbs, whatever they can. They permeate calmness and timelessness, a resistance to speed. And there are precocious school going children. Or a flock of pigeons. Amidst this, I feel like I am in a cocoon, on my small patch. The sun bakes, flies irk, grass pricks, dirt clings to the sweaty body, yet the mind is peaceful. Parks are great places just to be.

With any workout, happiness and contentment is mostly the end feeling. The book Superhuman by Rowland Cooper has a chapter on Running. It talks about transcendence - mind elevating to a level that body is overcome. It also talks about how people are able to derive newer meanings of life, find unexplored aspects of self. Of course, any workout is about stretching oneself. Finding reserves of power, endurance, tenacity which we did not know existed. The runners are doing amazing feats - 1000 marathons over 1000 days! It is about pushing to the next level, next kilometer, one more kg of weight. The body will fail, will give up. But will the mind stand up, take guard.   

Control over mind can allow one to control parts of the body as desired. This is the yoga practise of dhyaan, or meditation which follows the aasanas and pranayama in meritocracy. For instance, a common posture is to be able to concentrate on the middle of the forehead. It is as if concentrating on a particular part of the body would heal it. There is a science to it. Erect yet relaxed body, controlled breathing, and a keenly focused mind. It is a beautiful equilibrium. Concentrate so that there is no distraction, all five senses are under control. Focus the mind at one point and direct the breath that is running like life through the body. That state is hard to reach but it gives a feeling of immense power.  

Even though fitness is an individual pursuit, a fight with self, a challenge to self. Yet finding a companion can be a great facilitator. When motivation wavers, or the body starts to falter, presence of another person is a huge boost to the morale. New ideas, new energy flows from the likemindedness, and camaraderie. Not just that, another person adds to the competition, which makes one strive more. While jogging, I try to pick such competitions with a stranger running in the same direction. It instantly elevates the performance - physically the adrenaline rush helps, and mentally it distracts from the fatigue.   

This brings me to an area I am confused about. What should be the state of mind while running -  one of concentration, or of distraction? I have flipped between the two. Ideally, I believe concentration is essential for any exercise - to be able to derive maximum benefit as well as to make it easier. But where running is concerned, I tend to get bogged down by the thought of the run - thoughts of the distance still to be covered, awareness of heavy breathing, aches in the body, all dissuade and fatigue me mentally. On the other hand, if I am able to distract myself with other thoughts, say what happened the day before, or what I plan to do over the coming day, or planning something specific, I tend to forget about running. After some time I realise that I have run a good distance, almost on autopilot. It is not easy because the mind keeps coming back to the body which is sending stress signals. Ideally, I would like to achieve a serenity, a ‘rhythm’ which I keep striving for, where I am running smoothly, my mind is even-tempered. I am not thinking about anything specific. Running is on my mind but it is not absorbing my thoughts.

There are numerous exercise routines, with different purposes. It is difficult to find one routine which can meet all requirements. I like to keep mixing routines, to keep things fresh. I don’t know any perfect recipes. Right now, I am enjoying running and yoga. I want to keep perfecting the asanas I am regularly doing and adding more. I add a bit of cardio routines. Pushups is an effective all-rounder exercise. I want to add some weight training but nothing major. I also want to target specific routines like the handstand, the lizard movement.

A saying on the gym wall - ‘it becomes addictive once you see the results’. It indeed is. Seeing a flattened tummy, toned muscles, easy movements, effortless half marathon, can be intoxicating. Yet, frustrations too are par for the course. In fact more frequent. It is frustrating when you cannot wake up and hit the field, or when you wake up but feel tires, or when you are in the field but do not feel like moving, when you are not able to finish what you planned to do, or when you cannot do a particular routine after attempting for months. But persistence is the key. I am starting to realise that muscles will take months to achieve the desired flexibility. It is a slow process, especially in yoga, especially when you are not taking unnatural help in form of protein supplements. To be able to achieve that one inch of movement can be a long process.   

All in good time. Just keep at it.  

दोस्त हमेशा रहोगे तुम

आते जाते कम हैं आजकल
मिलते भी कम हैं
अब बात भी कहाँ ही होती है
बस कुछ शब्द इधर उधर,
वही जुमले गिनेे चुने

जिन्दगी बहुत मस़रुफ हो चली है
ज़िम्मेदारीय़ों का बोझ बहुत है
या महसूस बहुत होता है
कोई सम्भालना सीखा दे तो

जाने किन पेचीदिगीयों में दिमाग गुम रहता है
अब कुछ भी खालिस, बेबाक नही लगता
सब कुछ नपा तुला सा है
सोचा समझा सा

चलते चलते एक रोष पैैदा होता है
एक गुबार सा बनता है
और फिर निकल भी जाता है ।
और हम फिर चल पड़तेेे हैैं
पर कब तक ।
मन गुम सा है, यकीन डगमगाया सा है

ज़्यादा नही पर
मेरी सोच में तुम, तुुम्हारी सोच में मै,
इतने में बसर करते हैैं ।
दोस्त हमेशा रहोगे तुम
इतने में बसर करते हैैं ।
अब ज़्यादा क्या सोचें, बस
आओ कभी बैठें और घंटों बातें करेंं
आओ कभी बैठें और घंटों खामोश रहें

An apology: this is not necessarily a poem but couplets written in conversational style, aping my favourite Mr. Gulzar. There is no rhyme, meter, style, or quality. But I hope a measure of my thoughts
Another: I thought a lot before posting it. Emotions have a strange way. They rouse, strike, consume, drive, and force. And then they desert and leave you empty. Then you think what the big deal was all about. Why the fuss. Let things be. I wrote this in moments of frenzy and kept postponing uploading it in moments of vacuity and self doubt. I upload it with uncertain mind.  

Mirch Masala

A casual surfing of TV channels brought me to Mirch Masala, almost halfway through by now. I had seen it long back. But the climax has always stayed with me. Only now did I realise that the movie is lot more than the climax. Watching such movies educate about the nuances of the craft of filmmaking, even to a novice like me. I could see how the script enhanced the story and how the dialogues enhanced the script. Movies which are backed by a strong story and script are always a treat. Backed by a director who can keep everything taut and minimal, one gets to experience how actors can become almost meaningless. Although in case of Mirch Masala, one makes such a statement after being spoint, since the acting is so effortless, by a cast which includes Smita Patil, Naseeruddin Shah, Om Puri, Suresh Oberoi, Deepti Naval, Benjamin Gilani, Dina Pathak, Supria Pathak, Ratna Pathak. This is a case where the cast is so good that it brings the story to the fore and thereby takes the focus away from acting.  

Mirch Masala is apparently set in a village in Gujarat in colonial India. The bare bones story is such: Subedar is like an uncrowned king of the village where most men are usually either pandering to him or loitering. Subedar’s camp is near the river where village women come to wash clothes, and he ogles at them shamelessly. He is captivated initially by the beauty and later by the confidence of Sonbai. One day when he attacks Sonbai, she slaps him and hides inside the spice factory where she works with other women of the village. Abu Mian, the old guard of the factory shuts the gates and refuses entry to Subedar’s soldiers. Subedar tries all tricks but both Sonbai and Abu Mian refuse to yield. As the matter escalates, Mukhi convenes the village panchayat. The villagers are quick to condemn Sonbai and decide that she must turn herself over to Subedar. The schoolmaster opposes this view; once they give in for one woman, he says, there will be nothing to stop Subedar from demanding others, even perhaps Mukhi's own wife. (He is immediately thrashed for this.) The panchayat is dissolved and Mukhi reports back to Subedar that they will hand over Sonbai on the condition that Subedar will not make further demands of this nature. Subedar laughs off this condition and has the schoolmaster thrashed soundly again. He asks Mukhi to reason with Sonbai; threatening that her obstinacy is liable to bring trouble to the entire village. Mukhi brings pressure on Sonbai, but she stands firm. Within the factory, the women who once supported Sonbai now turn upon her. They fear that if she does not yield, Subedar may send his men to indiscriminately molest the women. Sonbai nearly relents, but is stopped by Abu Mian. Eventually, Subedar’s soldiers ram down the factory gate and shoot Abu Mian. As Subedar approaches to lay claim on Sonbai, in a sudden and swift attack, the women of the factory rush forward in pairs, holding sheets of chilli powder, and throw it at Subedar’s face. Subedar is incapacitated, on his knees, screaming in pain, his eyes and skin burning, while Sonbai looks on with a mysterious, determined, satisfactory gleam in her eyes, and a sickle in her hand.

Around this simple premise, the movie has many peripheral characters, each of which is well etched, and serves to deliver a message. The movie is so well and deeply written that it gives a detailed commentary on the society, and its numerous issues.  

Time and place agnostic

The movie does not specify the location and the timeline. This is important to deliver the message that the issues that it raises can happen anywhere, and anytime. Themes of feudalism, power struggles, gender biases, moral corruption, suppression and rebellion, are parts of human behaviour. And despite all progress, no society is totally immune to them at all times.  

Power structures between men and women

The strongest undertone of the movie is the sharp disparity in stature of men and women. Most men of the village are either gossiping, pandering to the Subedar, or politicking; while the women are doing all the hard work, including earning at the spice factory. Only exceptions are Abu Mian, and the schoolmaster. He is a reformer, and the only literate person in the village, insisting on educating the children, even girls (female education is considered worthless and scandalous). Most other men, including Mukhi, are shown to be extremely meek in front of power, personified by Subedar. But they are bold and cruel to women. This contrast is highlighted in case of Mukhi and her wife. She is bold and tries to stand up to Mukhi on many occasions - getting her daughter to school, refusing Mukhi entry into her room if he continues his philandering ways, and finally mobilising the women to march in protest against the decision of the men of the village to convince Sonbai to accept Subedar’s demand. On all occasions, Mukhi overpowers her brutally.

That the standards of behaviour are different for men and women is seamlessly woven in dialogues. Sonbai’s husband has gone to the city for a better job which can improve his family’s future. But repeatedly, doubts are raised on the likelihood of his return. Even Sonbai dreads that. Which means that it is almost expected by men to desert their wives (who in turn have to keep waiting), and possibly have another family in the city. Objectification of women is immense - even Mukhi is away from home most nights, hinting that he is sleeping with other women; Subedar is regularly supplied with women for his pleasure.

Seen impartially, this inequality feels bizarre and farcical when the matter of handing over Sonbai to Subedar is discussed. The very fact that the men of the village sit together to decide on the future of a women shows the extent of depravity. There is no concept of free will of the woman in question. The dialogues between Subedar and Mukhi, those during the village panchayat meeting, and finally those between Mukhi and Sonbai are especially stark. There is a possibility that Sonbai’s husband may not accept her when he learns that she has slept with Subedar (only he has the authority to accept or reject). The villagers try to convince Sonbai that they will persuade her husband to keep her or else the village will take care of her future. Subedar jovially suggests to Mukhi that Mukhi may ‘keep’ her.    

Subedar and Feudalism

Feudalism is at the bedrock of the film, which also gives it a universal appeal. Subedar acts as lord and master of the village, with his soldiers running amok, plundering food and livestock as per their fancy. Unleashing his soldiers on the village is the primary threat of Subedar to get Sonbai. He is routinely cruel, unfair, and temperamental. The villagers are at the mercy of his moods, and he exploits his power in every possible way. He acts as the legislature, the executive, and the judiciary. He can decide on the taxes to be collected from the farmers. He rules on the case of a farmer not being able to return money to the moneylender.

He thrashes a villager for breaking his gramophone record, shouts at a grieving woman only because she is disturbing his morning return. Villagers are totally helpless, and discard even the thought of retaliating to the government, or for that matter any authority. Silent acceptance of any and all atrocities is hard wired into their psyche. They consider it to be predestined for their lot. In one scene, mukhi's younger brother even asks the school-master the meaning of the word swaraj.  

Of course, Subedar has a roving eye, established very early on during the garba scene. Subedar’s only agenda during the dance is to assess and pick women. In fact he even shows a likeness for Mukhi’s wife. The pinnacle of his injustice and impropriety is reached when he declines to affirm that he would not make similar demands in future once Sonbai is handed to him

Social hierarchy

Mirch Masala brings out the prevalent social hierarchy. The spice factory owner, the Mukhi, the priest, represent the relative upper classes - amalgamation of economic, political, and caste supremacy. The villagers represent the lowest classes, who face the wrath not just of Subedar but also those of upper classes. Between the various classes, Subedar naturally sides with the powerful and the wealthy. There is a cross section of similar hierarchy among the women of the village, but it is less stark and acrimonious.

Weak men

The extent of weakness of men in the movie is almost shocking. Character of Mukhi’s brother is there only to epitomise this - he loves a girl working in the spice factory but is spineless to stand in front of anybody - the girl’s father or his own brother. Even when the girl he loves is trapped inside the spice factory, he is not able to do anything to save her. All throughout, the women try to help each other, and protect each other despite the pressures of men’s dictums. In the climax, all men are just trying to convince Sonbai to agree to Subedar because that is the easiest solution. As the gate of the spice factory collapses, all are just standing motionless with Mukhi’s brother crying weakly.

Women a self-sustaining ecosystem

In contrast to the men, the women are efficient, a self-sustaining society, epitomised by the spice factory. Women assemble every day, joke around, work hard, discuss family matters. A pregnant worker gets a fit and is taken care of by the other women, as they are stuck inside the factory. Mukhi’s wife clandestinely gets them food, to which one of them remarks ‘only a woman can think of feeding even in crisis’. Near the climax, they are able to deliver a healthy baby without any external help. And of course, in the climax, the women show that when pushed to a corner, they can protect themselves.

Feminism

Sonbai’s character unequivocally stands for feminism. She appears a bit anachronistic wherein everyone around her is submissive to the dictates of the society. She is no tomboy - she labours like other women, she is deeply rooted to her husband. But she stands out because of her independent thought. She will question societal norms, and test them on her sense of right and wrong. In the first interaction with Subedar, while other women flee, she stands firm. She is not afraid when he asks for water, in fact she gives it playfully. At other times, she is mostly content with her life, happy despite the difficult circumstances. And when Subedar attacks her, she does not demur, rather slaps him. She has the courage to stand for her rights and her freedom when the entire village is forcing her to yield. When villagers say that they would have asked her husband to convince her (again, the husband has absolute authority!), she retorts that she would not have acceded even if her husband had commanded (disagreeing to the husband is unthinkable in this society).  

Sonbai apart, there are curious, and refreshing insights into women behaviour, something very few Hindi movies have depicted. The women are bitchy, jibing each other freely. Their conversations are free on the taboo topics of sex, and adultery (I think the writers could not be more explicit because of censor considerations). On being jovially heckled by others to have more children, one woman remarks that she will bear children only from her husband, indicating that adultery is not uncommon among women as well. One worker of the factory easily admits to Sonbai that she had spent a night with Subedar. Interestingly, that woman argues that Subedar is enamoured by Sonbai and would treat her and keep her well. A man who treats his woman well is a big fancy for these women who are used to physical, emotional abuse, and neglect by their husbands.  

Most importantly, the movie pricks the notion of placing women chastity on a high pedestal. In Indian society, a woman’s purity is considered a hallowed ground, and any invasion is considered the biggest travesty for a woman. The movie shows that women take matters more casually. This is not to say that they are amoral but that virginal chastity is not the cornerstone of a woman’s existence - a rape or adultery does not take away their right to life. Such taboos are imposed by men who start associating their own pride with that of their woman. To break away from this tradition would be to allow breathing space to women, to give them freedom beyond their chastity.    

Mukhi: most interesting character

Amongst a roster of interesting characters, I found that of Mukhi the most interesting and most complex. He is the village chief, but below Subedar in hierarchy. Thus we find him in various shades. He is powerful and authoritative, even cruel, to villagers, but is blunted when facing Subedar. Subedar and Mukhi share an interesting power equation. Mukhi he is not overtly subservient to Subedar like other villagers. He keeps a pretense of power in front of Subedar, although in essence he has no power. During the Garba dance, Mukhi is sitting majestically. When Subedar arrives, Mukhi keeps his position, barely acknowledging him. Even when they exchange glances, Mukhi maintains a demeanour to show that he is no less important.

Subedar is constantly insinuating that Mukhi also uses his power to subjugate women, but Mukhi keeps him at bay with lines like ‘Bhukhe nange gaon ka Mukhi hoon’, or ‘Yahan nazar par bhi nazar rakhni padti hai’. When Subedar says that he has not asked for Mukhi’s wife, Mukhi gives a firm retort to express his anger. There is a power tango between the two characters. Mukhi wants to keep Subedar happy, to be able to get some concessions from him, and yet maintain dignity of his position.

Mukhi makes earnest representation of villagers to Subedar, be it to ask for lower taxes, or to let go of his desire for Sonbai. Mukhi is tactful, persuasive, and insistent. On such occasions, he comes across as brave and commands appreciation. But eventually he is as weak as the other men, able only to subjugate the villagers and his wife. He ticks off the father who requests alliance of his daughter with Mukhi’s brother, as the two are in love. He may be well-meaning on many occasions but is not able to take a firm stand when matters come to head. On the matter of handing over Sonbai, despite failing to negotiate any concession from the Subedar, Mukhi walks with extreme pride at the head of the group of villagers, looking like a buffoon. He is a case study of how people behave in a power hierarchy.  

Abu Mian - the hero

Abu Mian, the old, fragile guard with a solitary rifle is the hero of the movie. His character and dialogues are the only throwbacks to mainstream, pulpy Bollywood cinema. Along with the school headmaster, he is the only man who stands for Sonbai and the rights of women. He tries to show the mirror to villagers and Mukhi, that they are not man enough to face Subedar, leaving Abu Mian as the only one in the village who has the courage to back his convictions.

He neatly translates the difference between letter and spirit, when he says his job is not to follow the command of spice factory’s owner, but to protect each woman in the factory. Along with Sonbai, he stands firmly for what he believes in till the end, even when he knows that he will lose the battle if things come to head. But in his dying, he serves an important role. He unites the women to mount that attack. The attack was never planned in advance. It was stirred by Abu Mian’s death. It is a spontaneous response to the shock which is evoked by the brutality of killing an innocent man.

Why does Subedar not use force early on

Given the absolute authority that Subedar holds on the village, one wonders why does he not simply get Sonbai picked by his soldiers? Why does he scheme - asking the owner of the factory, then the Subedar and the entire village to convince Sonbai. To my mind, this is a display of how power works. Being able to have one’s way without an overt display of force only strengthens the mystery and power. A politician will try not to alienate anyone absolutely, still have his way. As Subedar says ‘mazaa to tab hai jab saanp bhi na mare aur lathi bhi na toote’. And by trying all means possible, Subedar gets the villagers to implicitly sanctify his last bit of aggression - he shows that he is using force only as a last resort.

There is another reason, associated with male sense of lust. Subedar comments to Mukhi, about Sonbai ‘apne aap aa jaye to zyada mazaa degi’. Instead of getting Sonbai to his bed through force, Subedar will enjoy the sexual encounter more if Sonbai submits to him willingly. That will pander to his male ego.

The Climax

The climax is stunning. Subedar is on horse outside the factory; there is absolute silence. After that: war cries of Subedar’s soldiers driving the battering ram into the factory gate. The gate collapses with a loud thud. A sharp retort of Abu Mian rifle. One soldier collapses. Subedar’s horse brays sharply and he is thrown to ground. Rifle shots by soldiers and Abu Mian collapses. One woman in the factory cries out ‘Abu Mian’. Absolute silence. The sharp sound of Subedar’s heels as he advances towards Sonbai. Now the war cries of women, similar to the cries of Subedar’s soldiers earlier, as they unload chilli on Subedar’s face. Finally, shrieks of anguish by Subedar. Unfolding of wave after wave of red chilli is a retort to the repeat movement of the battering ram. In the last shot, Sonbai looks resolutely, holding a sickle - initially taken for self defense and now a symbol of destruction, evoking the image of goddess Durga.     

The childbirth scene

Near the climax, the movie shows one of the workers in the spice factory delivering a baby. All the women help with the delivery despite being under seige from villagers and Subedar’s soldiers. What was the need for this scene?

Despite the collective strength shown throughout by the women, at one point they weaken. Under seige of villagers and Subedar’s soldiers, and the pressure of being away from their families, they try to persuade Sonbai to relent. They jibe her bitterly. It is an important scene because it shows how self preservation is a strong human value.

To follow this with the climax wherein all women unite to protect Sonbai, a link was needed. Their collective effort in that childbirth was that link. The urgency of the event forced them to unite and start believing again in their collective strength.  

Group Think

The movie repeatedly illustrates groupthink amongst the villagers, perpetrated by their ignorance and illiteracy. When the entire contingent is in front of Subedar, and Mukhi says that the village has agreed to hand over Sonbai, the schoolmaster looks to challenge this but is immediately silenced and shadowed by other villagers. But when Subedar asks who wants an assurance that Subedar would not make similar demands in future, all villagers point to schoolmaster.

As matter escalates, the arguments of villagers become increasingly preposterous. By the end, the entire village is persuading Sonbai to fornicate with Subedar, in a way approving a rape. The village priest is the most superficial character in the movie. He imparts religious sanctity to the proceedings by arguing that ‘sacrifice’ of one for the benefit of many is approved by Gods. This shows the ludicrosity of religious practices by priests, who can offer arguments for any end result desired by the wealthy and the powerful. The movie amply shows how in collectivism, things can change quickly, such that nothing is too absurd. If the masses are not alert, rational and conscious, anything can happen, with tacit or even explicit approval.

Fault (not) in the eye of the beholder

As is a common practise even today, many a times women are blamed for acting in a manner that piques men’s interest. Here also, other workers in the factory blame Sonbai for having acted suggestively, which aroused Subedar’s interest. Indeed Sonbai was playful with Subedar when giving him water, but so what? Playfulness cannot be interpreted as a sexual demand. Subedar claims that Sonbai had invited his interest and is now acting hard-to-get. It is a classic case of men interpreting a female gesture as per their own desires.

Worse still, even if the female has acted and dressed properly, she can still be culpable for being beautiful. Someone comments ‘Galti tere roop main hain’. To which Sonbai retorts ‘uske dekhne main nahi’. The standard debate of whether the fault is with the object or the eye of the beholder.

The Obelisk

The most interesting symbolism in the movie is that of the stone obelisk near Subedar’s encampment. It is used by Subedar to mete out punishment - the guilty person is tied to it with an extended rope, hungry and thirsty under the bitter sun for hours. The villager who defaults to the money lender is the first person on it. There is a well-constructed shot where the villager is tied to it, on his knees, his grieving wife is sitting nearby on her haunches just looking at him, powerless to do anything. A sentry is standing on guard. The villager is under the sentry’s thumb and the wife is under her husband’s thumb. She has no option but to be with her husband, effectively serving the same punishment as him, without being tied by a rope.

When the schoolmaster is implicated by the villagers for making an outrageous suggestion to Subedar, he too is tied to the obelisk, where he joins two others. A satirical scene follows. The three pull on their ropes together and uproot the obelisk. They then look to use it to intersect the departing villagers party, headed by Mukhi. Crying in unison, they carry it down the slope. They are face to face with Mukhi who hits one of them on the head with his cane, and the small revolt crumbles. It is a semi-comical scene with much depth.    

How science can control

In a display of how colonialism and feudalism works not just through brute power but also because of its ability to mystify and take advantage of ignorance, the Subedar impresses his subjects by playing a gramophone. The villagers are ignorant and easily awed when sound emanates from the gramophone. Those in power have the influence and the money to buy the most advanced technology which adds to their aura. This impact becomes more pronounced when even the access to information and knowledge is controlled by those in power.

Barot

This is a small but strangely interesting character (‘Barot’ is also a clan in Rajasthan and Gujarat). He is a vagrant and does not necessarily belong to the village. Yet he is part of the panchayat meeting called by Mukhi to discuss Subedar’s demand for Sonbai. Apart from the schoolmaster, he is the only one who opines that the village should stand for Sonbai. He is summarily thrown from the meeting, to which he just bows and departs, as he had little at stake. When Subedar sees Barot leaving, he forcibly seeks an explanation. In a subtle and mystical reply, Barot says ‘Iss gaon ka paani kharab hai’, possibly hinting to the impurity infused by Subedar to the village water, as his encampment is adjacent to the river. He then bows and goes onwards.

Milieu of the movie

The ambience of Mirch Masala is true to its title. It is earthy, and rustic. Right from the titles, which show close-ups of red chilli crop and folk song playing in the background, to the end credits, the film keeps the mood perfect. Sceneries of the village, of Subedar’s camp, of spice factory, of homes of villagers, all are realistic. Costumes, and mannerisms of all the characters are pitch perfect. Expanse of drying chilli, and background music fill the senses.

Football Vignettes

Belatedly, but two stories warmed the heart during the Russia football world cup in 2018. These stories are not about sporting genius, or sporting glory but about increasingly rare qualities like basic human goodness, morality, grace, and respect for others - not just in triumph but more importantly in defeat.

1.

In 2003, in a game between Denmark and Iran being played in Hong Kong, an Iranian player mistook a whistle from the crowd as the referee’s half-time signal, and picked the ball up with his hands in the penalty area.

The referee gave Denmark a penalty kick, but following a consultation with national team coach Morten Olsen, Danish captain Morten Wieghorst missed the penalty on purpose as a token of fair play. Denmark lost the game 1–0, with Iran scoring a goal after this incident.  

Wieghorst received an Olympic Committee fair play award.   

2.

In the quarter finals of the 2018 world cup, Japan suffered a bitter loss to Belgium. Belgium was the clear favourite but it was Japan which led 2-0 well into the second half, on their way to a major upset. Only to lose 3-2 with Belgium scoring three goals in 69th, 74th and the 94th minute! But such a shock defeat did not deter the grace of the Japanese players as well as the fans.

Post the defeat, the Japanese team cleaned their dressing room spotless and left a handwritten Thank You note in Russian for the hosts. The tearful fans too cleaned the stands before leaving. In fact, this had been a routine practice by the fans in all the matches. As per one news article, this is not an unusual behaviour for the Japanese people as leaving public spaces clean is a usual, bred-from-childhood habit for them.  

There are teams and fans which have caused huge ruckus, even stampede and violence after such heartbreaking losses. Such behaviour may even be reluctantly justified. But Japanese have shown rare, heart-warming poise and character   

Plenty of goodness still out there. Keep looking!

Dead Poets Society

The movie has flaws but it is difficult not to get moved by Ethan Hawke’s “O’Captain, My Captain”, every time! The movie is about teaching kids to be free-thinking, free-spirited, original and daring, and questioning the education system which suppresses these qualities. The lead characters - students of the all-male Welton Academy are shown as case studies of different personality types and how each personality matures. Neil Perry is the talented kid from whom ‘great things are expected’. But his heart is in acting, something which his dominating father detests as it is not a financially-secure career choice. Knox Overstreet is the dasher, who is hesitant to propose to the girl he likes, as she is dating a football player. Charlie Dalton is the rebel, deriving pleasure in breaking rules but who would stand for his friends at all costs. Steven Meeks and Gerard Pitts are the geeks, happy to carry surreptitious science experiments. Richard Cameron is the diligent, un-original, self-preserving kid, who is scared of breaking rules. And Todd Anderson is the reserved kid, unsure of his abilities and scared of expressing himself. We would have seen all these shades while growing up, in school and colleges; and also associate some shades with our own personality. In that respect, Dead Poets Society is a bit formulaic, jarring in its effort to cover all bases.

In the setting of the disciplinarian Welton (called Hell-ton by students) where the tried and tested curriculum is taught in an efficient manner to prepare the students for a secure, though unimaginative life, enters John Keating (a solid Robin Williams, on a sure turf). He is an alumnus of the school but has somehow escaped the rote learning. The movie oversells him by using phrases like ‘the man most likely to do anything’ or ‘hell raiser’. These departures from subtlety are the main weaknesses of an otherwise inspiring movie. Mr. Keating wishes to ingrain originality in his pupils, much to the bemusement of his colleagues and disapproval of the headmaster Nolan. There are seemingly weird tasks like stepping on the benches (to see the world differently), strolling in the courtyard with different gaits (to ‘illustrate the dangers of conformity’), ripping apart the portion of textbook which reduces poetry appreciation to mathematical analysis, making students kick football with full vigour while reading heroic poetry. Some of these appear far fetched and the movie gets a bit carried away in making its point. Keating gets the message across more emphatically with ideas like ‘communication developed to be able to woo women’, or ‘we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race’.

Gradually, his teaching hits home. Standing by his virtue of Carpe Diem (or ‘Seize the day’), the boys decide to form a club ‘Dead Poets Society’ which meets clandestinely at night, in a cave, to read poetry, smoke, and do as they please. Knox proposes, caring little about the consequences. Neil auditions for and gets the lead role in a local enactment of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by writing a fake letter from his father to the headmaster. Todd had to be delicately extricated from his shell, Keating says “Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal.” He ends up pushing him to be able to recite an extempore poem in front of the class, something which surprises Todd himself. In the next scene, to signify a completion of the transformation, the boys are playing football with euphoric abandon with Keating on the sidelines jumping to the background opera music. Todd scores a majestic goal and Keating is hoisted away.

Dead Poets Society exhorts to be original, to be imaginative, to be creative, to be different, to have the courage to break the monotone, to do more with life, to ‘live deep and suck out all the marrow of life’. But at the same time, it advises caution - when Charlie pulls a stunt in front of the headmaster and gets physically punished. Keating wants him to appreciate the balance between courage and foolishness; to not mistake Carpe Diem to cheap publicity.

Thankfully, the movie is beautifully restrained and realistic in its last half hour. Neil shows promising acting skills in the play but his father is not impressed. Neil was advised by Keating to convince his father, and that his father would understand him once he sees him act. But his father forces his choice of withdrawing Neil from Welton, and setting up a safe career of a doctor. Now Neil, who has an actor’s sensitivity, is heartbroken. This, and his inability to stand up to his father pushes him to suicide. Todd is devastated. An investigation is initiated against Keating. Cameron lives up to his character and buys his freedom by revealing everything, blaming Keating’s teaching style and advice for pushing Neil to suicide. On the other extreme, Charlie too plays his part, refusing to do any such thing, instead punching Cameron and getting expelled. All the others - Todd, Knox, Steven and Gerrard have no other option but to sign a written statement which incriminates Keating. The movie did not go overboard at this point, by depicting an unrealistic heroic rebellion by the boys. Now each has to take his own decision, with only their parents for support. Young, impressionable, kids, fall to the pressure of their practical parents, and reluctantly sign the statement. They are overcome with grief and guilt - a real world learning.      

The movie is also about coming of age of Todd, played beautifully by Ethan Hawke. He is the capable yet unsure kid. In the end, Keating has been fired, and he comes to collect his belongings while the English class is being taught by the headmaster Nolan. As Keating passes Todd’s desk, Todd bursts out explaining to Keating that they were all forced to sign the statement and that Neil’s death was not his fault. As he is forced to sit down by Nolan, he is torn between guilt and the fear of taking a stand, crying profusely. He is finally able to take the leap (only Charlie had been able to do it, for him there was never a dilemma). As Keating is about to leave the room, Todd stands up on his desk, saying ‘O, Captain, my captain’. The act and the words are meant to be a tribute to Keating’s education. The words give me goosebumps every time. Gradually and with courage, others join Todd, by standing on their desks, now overlooking protests and threats from Nolan. Todd’s face is now glowing with a warm resolve, happy with his courage, and finally at peace with himself. Half the class is on the desk, ignorant of Nolan. Keating says “Thank you, boys”, deeply moved by the fact that his lessons have reached home.