It has been three weeks of being on my own, three weeks of serious loneliness. I quite enjoyed being alone. Now, a sequence plays on loop in my head, where I fall on the tiled floor with a thud, hit my head, and that’s the end. Nobody comes to my rescue, nobody dials 108 for an ambulance.
Our generation grabs every chance to declare its nostalgia. The Comic Con is one such chance. But what happens is that old content thrives and the new never gets a chance.
The biggest takeaway of Pati Patni Aur Woh is that director Mudassar Aziz has a worse understanding of the relationship between man and woman than Luv Ranjan. Bhumi Pednekar is the only bright spark of this supremely pointless outing, but even she loses interest in the proceedings midway.
In the world that we live in today, which is marred by discrimination toward minorities and a breathless demand for proof of citizenship, Amar Akbar Anthony’s secular universe almost seems utopian. It’s funny because Manmohan Desai’s portrait of India is actually the India that our ancestors fought for.
“The wounds smell of dead rats, and when doctors clean them, you feel the scrub down to the bones.” As if an acid attack weren’t cruel enough, victims, not perpetrators, are thoughtlessly shunned.
In a time when even your phone doubles up as your camera, your assistant, a pastime, a distraction, a recorder, and an addiction, can people get away by doing just one job? Multi-tasking is the only thing worth pursuing. You can’t be a single-function watch anymore.
The toxic reaction to Tanushree Dutta’s attempt to share her story of harassment by Nana Patekar underlines how it isn’t just a victim’s responsibility to speak up. It took my friend being publicly accused of harassment for me to see I’d played my part in the crime by not confronting him when I should have.
At a time when we are divided over politics in Kashmir and Assam, ravaged by floods, and crushed by the economy on a freefall, Chandrayaan 2 has ushered in a dash of positivity we so badly need.