(Mahatmajir Proti) Sukanta Bhattacharya (1926-1947) Translated © 2022 from the Bengali by Monish R Chatterjee Of our teeming 400 million, I too am one, I know Abruptly in the airwaves I’ve heard the pronouncement – The great moment in my life has arrived, instantly wiping away All apprehension and cowardice. The drumbeats of exultation Ring out in my bloodstream: [Read More...]
by Rishikesh Nagdawane, Kanad Jambhulkar and Vicky Nandgaye The film is inspired by the former sports teacher Vijay Barse from Hislop College. It is a socio-pic (see Mangesh Dahiwale’s wall[1]) because it combines Vijay Borade’s (Amitabh Bacchan) life and mission with the lives and sufferings of city-slum young people. As a result, it can be viewed as a socio-pic. The[Read More...]
The movie ‘The Kashmir Files’ by Vivkek Agnihotri is being propagated by the BJP supporters. BJP run state governments is encouraging people to watch the movie. It is being depicted as one which shows the pains of the Kashmiri Pandits. The movie might be well made technically and actors might have lived to the characters. Commentaries on factual errors has[Read More...]
The setting – A 12 by 12 all-purpose one-room rundown chawl in a crowded suburb of Central Mumbai. The residents – An auto rickshaw driver, Manu Shukla, and his parents. The milieu – A crowded, dark, noisy, smoky bar where Shukla and his friends hang out late evenings after a hard day’s labor, to bond over beer and banter. Conversations[Read More...]
ONE I was shown Nagraj Popatrao Manjule’s Fandry for my course in media and cultural studies at TISS and then I went and watched Sairat with my friends in a theatre. It was impossible for me to get my family to watch either of these movies. One of the reasons was that these movies were in Marathi while my family[Read More...]
Eat this. There is not much time for eating. We fight and food is scarce and getting scarcer. Maybe this is our last supper? Perhaps the world is ending? This shattered bone-bread is bodies of our people – fallen, falling bread crumbs and scattered black seeds of sunflowers. Citizens who are dismembered sleep now, never to waken[Read More...]
That was at what time, our mother said, “we were working out on a journey with friends and relatives.” We were joyful. We departed by picking lonesome paths, that carried eerie charge. I was but eight. Mother said, people walked all the way through wars. It was in contrast to whatever we conceived it to be. We did not[Read More...]
Oh Yemen, I’m sorry That No one remembers you That You are not White That You are not Christian That You were attacked by the “good guys” I know you have solidarity With the people Of Ukraine Even if No one remembers you
Nights are on the panics, you filled your gun with bullets; Nights are dreadful, you shield and polish your weapons with great pride. Pride – your pride costs how many lives? You caress your pride like a baby, your only child is your weapon. Time has come; you’re ready to take charge, Your baby is well prepared- your gun is[Read More...]
The Russian predator by Ra Sh Once again, there is blood on Neruda’s streets. Once again, there are those sickening images of mothers grieving for their sons, of families looking for their bread winners, of little girls picking blood splattered flowers, of airplanes bombing housing colonies. Once again, war photos will fill pages. One will get the Pulitzer prize. Many[Read More...]
