Cinema and me...

Well there are movies that directors make…when they seem to at their very best. Bombay was one such movie by Mani, Maqbool was one such movie by Vishal. Someone spoke about identifying with the movies…I don’t know for how many people it is possible to actually identify with the storyline of either Bombay or Maqbool. The fact why we still like these movies are – the mesmerism they created.

I have watched Bombay only once…on a certain lazy February afternoon when I happened to be at home due to down pouring rain. I never cared to relive the watching for I never wanted even a single moment of that experience to be altered. Bombay is…a dream, an enigma…a truth saying that love surpasses everything on earth.

I have watched Maqbool only once…from 2-5 of a Saturday midnight with pin drop silence…and pinching loneliness. I cannot bear to relive the horror, the fact that hatred and selfishness are the most destructive factors in human nature, yet we commit them and defend ourselves.

Yet every single scene of both the movies are etched forever in my mind.


The Bombay riot was fun for the 12 year old child – who got an opportunity to go and play with her father and kid brother in the local park every day for a week. 3 years later the Bombay movie was a revelation about meaninglessness of human identity crisis and the strength of humanity that survives even the worst form of madness. The first read of Macbeth was at best having an effect of a scary fairy tale on the same kid, at the age of 11. Maqbool, 15 years later – presented to her an all new dimension of human animosity.

So not getting into the debate about if Mani is a genius director, or Vishal – it’s certain movies that haunt you, inspire you and live with you for the rest of your life. If you have read The Last Leaf by O Henry, everyone has a masterpiece, let’s not argue about that triumph which every human achieves at least once in a life time.