THE HAT JAA TAAU DIARIES

THE HAT JAA TAAU DIARIES


Originally published on Passionforcinema.com posted at passionforcinema.com/the-hat-jaa-taau-diaries/

Hailed one of the most popular Haryanvi songs of all time, ‘Hat jaa Tau’  from the album 'nay lifafa' is a top grosser and can be easily heard in any/all types of functions in delhi/ncr. For those unfamiliar with the song, i can only give a few lines

Hat ja tau pache ne,                             (uncle move back/withdraw)

Ho hat-jya, Tau hatjya                        (oh uncle…oh uncle please withdraw today)

Hat jya tau paachhe nai,

Nachan ne jee kar reha se                   ( i feel like dancing)

Ho bete!!!!

Aaj Hataya nahi hatunga                  (today i will not go if you asked me to)

Dekhe! Daaten te bhi nahi datunga  (even if you scold i will not move)
Aaj, mein nahi soon aape mein          (today i am not in my control)
Nachan de ji bhar ke ne…ho bete!!    (let me dance to my heart’s content)

The famous song 'hat ja tau'

The song broke a box office record and also shattered the slumber of the Haryanvi film and video industry. It also raised a big question. The void created by Hindi cinema. The Hindi cinema industry has been in an experimental phase lately. There are films for the NRI’s (you know the examples), for the gen-y (LSD,My Brother Nikhil) for elderly  (Baghban), for family audience as well as average viewers. But somewhere in this variety, regional flavours have been lost. By regional flavours i do not mean the regional characters but regional aspirations and sensibilities.

Indian films had always been characteristic of cultural integration. We have had great films such as Parineeta, Pinjar, Rudaali,Omkara, Ishqiya depicting the culture or giving us glimpses into various regions. But as Hindi cinema grappled with the question of content, form and style while dealing with differentiated audiences, the ability to artistically integrate the preferences of regional audience, could not keep pace.

As a result, the different states in the Hindi heartland started out on their own to make what they liked to watch. Consequently, we got the Bhojpuri industry (active volcano), the Punjabi cinemasphere (dormant volcano) and the Haryanvi industry (the extinct volcano).

The most exciting changes came in the Bhojpuri industry. Suddenly, there was regional cinema that had the potential to tower the well established counterparts of South. (Tamil, Telugu and Malayalam films). Though the content and quality of these films is still not as rich as the southern films,they satisfy the huge market of UP, Bihar and adjoining areas. But even these films cater to a limited audience belt.

NFDC sponsored film Lado starring Ashutosh Rana 

With no help from Hindi film industry and no Godfather, the other states had the option to either pick up the ‘this- is- all- i -have- for- you‘ films from Hindi industry or make the ‘ this- is-what -we- like ‘ films. They chose the latter. Not only as the area depicted lucrative business potential, but also because they got an opportunity to get rid of typical stories and narratives since no norms or benchmarks existed.

There was the freedom to say what one wanted to without fearing acceptability amongst wider audience. There was an explosion of films in numerous formats, with a wide variety of content that included bad remakes of popular hindi films and also some very original and entertaining work. All in all, it did satiate the taste buds. But what about the films that bombed?

Every time one film bombs at the regional box office, there is an awkward silence over who releases the next. The dependence of producers on Mumbai for their film making needs and lack of initiatives in the regional film sector  coupled with lack of structural framework to work in, discourage the average wannabe director.

The audience is torn between ‘low quality- my type’ cinema and  ’ high quality- not my type’ films. There is not an iota of doubt that Hindi cinema will remain the most popular form of entertainment in times to come. But why can’t I, as a regional audience, get my own Spider man made in Haryanvi  (and not dubbed in Haryanvi)? the graphics and all?

Malegaon ka Superman 

The world recognised the magic of Pather Panchali long before we woke up to the genius of Satyajit ray. Then why don’t we make it easier to unleash that creative potential in others back at home? Why does everything become cluttered, confusing and challenging in our nation?

I know the question is a bit ahead of its times. But there is an urgent need to build systems to support young, dynamic and intelligent individuals. People need to say what they have to and we have to make it easier for them. They don’t have to have contacts or in depth technical knowledge to make 35mm films. We need to give skills and a platform for more stories to tumble out of the closet. Even though over a thousand films are released in India, the market is a long way from saturation. And anyway let us put systems in place to take our Mis-en-scene to an international level.

Who knows, we may be watching the Spiderman in a dhoti soon?

The Interlude

Ever since you are gone

The ink has dried

My ability to pen my words into anything useful

Has died

I don’t feel pain,joy ,fear ,Sadness , hot or cold…

Neither do my words

Feel restless when untold

Those days when I wrote endlessly and you just looked on

Cheered, smiled, chided and pushed me to go on

The days you read up anything I wrote

Like water soaked by sponge

Gave me the confidence that

I can never go wrong

The way you slithered your hands on my writings

pointed out mistakes, goof-ups

laughed aloud together and

criticized the regular, mundane and sly things…

Ever since you are gone..

My words have lost their worth and meaning

Songs have lost music and

Heart has lost feeling

I just miss the manner in which

your eyes would say

and my hand would start to write

as if I cannot control its motion

it is working on divine might

How can I write now that you are no longer here….

My expressions are slurred

My vision ain’t clear

My mind shudders

My heart quivers

How can I write now that you are gone

My motivation, my confidence, my reasoning..

Have left me alone…

I run my hand frantically through what I write

Wondering If I can see you

Smiling through my words

And feel the connect of your fingers

Where they touched my words

The curves of your hand, the

 Knitting of the brow

The soft casual whisper

Telling me what is right

I ask myself, is there any reason anymore

Any cause to write???

To you, For You

I had expected the call but when it came, I was startled! The alumni association always called around this time of the year. But this meet was much more than a general alumni meet. Over one thousand ex-students were attending. I knew that SHE would come. SHE always came where HE came. It hadn’t changed over the past several years and I didn’t think it would change now. Surprisingly, even after all these years, I had a strange yearning to get into HIS shoes. To clasp my hands around HERS’ and walk into the school!!! Illogical dreams-I thought to myself. As always, I decided against going. But then, her beautiful deep-set eyes, rounded face and fragrant hair weakened my resolve in an instant.

“What colors does she like? ya! The earthy ones…brown is perfect! But do I have a brown? OH hell! I would need to buy one! No time man---just two days to go.”I hurriedly clambered onto my bike and headed to the nearest mall. Having found a perfect shirt in my first attempt, I was surprised. It had never happened in the past. “Ah! God is with me this time”, I thought.

By the time I returned home, random thoughts about her had begun to float in caverns of my mind. She was the perpetual tomboy—always bullying guys. When that did not work, as was often the case, she knew exactly how to use her girly charms, emotional blackmail or just one pleading look. How that ‘look’ melted the guys with steely resolves remains a mystery to me.

I had once gotten into a brawl with someone who had said a few derogatory things about her. She had giggled, “You look so cute with that bandage on your nose.” I had gladly preserved that bandage for two months. Even in that tender age, she had given me a purpose, a determination, a desire and courage of unimaginable proportions. I had wondered at how much I could do just because she had wanted me to! In the class, my eyes never lost hers, hanging on every word she said and I repeated everything to myself as it reminded me of her. I learned, I prayed, I did the Homeworks for her. FOR HER!!

But for some odd reason, she was always busy with others, always looking at me but never seeing. Nevertheless, she always lovingly planted a kiss on my cheek whenever I asked her opinion on things. How could she be so loving?? Always patient, never angry at my silly questions. My present success as an engineer was very much due to her likeness for physics. HER assignments that I did and what not! I wondered at the capabilities of love, marvelled at what a little support could do. I had always wondered how SHE could change me so much.

All these things reminded me of my own failures. How irresponsible and uncaring I had been. Always preoccupied, running the rat race of exams, competitions, entrance tests, etc.I had come so far on the path that I walked with her that I forgot where it all began. Not his time I thought to myself. !!

On the much-awaited day, I saw her come. As usual,with HIS hand in HERS’. I believed I was incapable of jealousy, but yet again she managed to evolve a new dimension of my personality. And then SHE finally saw me. The same eyes that removed all doubts, fears, apprehensions, trepidations and pain!

HER eyes met MINE.

The proud eyes of an engineer with ISRO. I was drawn to her as if in a trance, neglecting all the people who were calling my name or waving their hands to call me.

“So! How are you? It’s been a long time. I was wondering what you are up to? HE has become an engineer now!

DAMN HIM!!I wanted to jump out of the window and would definitely have done so if we hadn’t been on the ground floor. I was aghast! The focal point of our communication as gone! By the way, HE had grown taller than US both by now. I somehow mustered courage and said, -“ I am an engineer too! At ISRO.” I hoped she would gape in excitement and hug me. But she just said calmly—“I know! You were always capable of that. And your girlfriend? Hows she? An engineer too I suppose?”

I was shocked. There was not a slightest hint of anger, disappointment or disgust in her voice. Even today, she did not question my absence over the years. I was suddenly overcome by guilt at having been careless about our relationship. I dragged her to the dais before she could shoot her next question and grabbed the mike. I could see hundreds of eyes looking at me and heard one big whisper turning into a loud murmur. But determination to do what I HAD to focussed my energy on what I was saying.

I raised my hand and said,

“Whenever we tread the path of life, we meet numerous people, live in numerous situations and make numerous decisions. But among those numerous people, there are just a few who make you feel alive, value your judgements, trust your instincts, allow your imagination to take flight, support you through ordeals as a friend, philosopher and guide!

SHE is one such person, Today I want to tell her what I have been wanting to say forever. I want to tell her that I want her to be by my side. ALWAYS.!! To encourage my decisions, lend confidence when I falter and teach me when I fail. On behalf of the entire batch, wish to say---THANK YOU MAM!! For being there all these years, and making me what I am. Thank you for forgiving my mistakes. I want to thank you for your endless patience, endurance and determination. For being a true teacher, helping us to explore, question as well as find answers. And I want to say sorry. For neglecting you. For forgetting you and not turning up when you had wanted us to.”

The room thundered with applause. She only smiled with tears flowing from her eyes. Her son walked up to the stage and held her hand. HE always did. But her free hand was with me and we walked down together. I finally decided to make friends with HIM. She smiled for the rest of the evening. And HE told me that she smiled forever after that.

I was wondering how amazingly she had yet again forgiven me for not telling her about my selection to IIT, about my placement, about my girlfriend, now my wife! I thought I was unpardonable. But that is how teachers are. SHE didn’t complaint. Instead found ways to celebrate my success and rejoiced in my achievements. I learned another lesson form her. BE selfless in love. Its not mathematics after all! Never forget people or forget to thank them and NEVER EVER skip the alumni meet.!!

from Prasoon's desk

{a poem tuching everyone moved by mumbai firings...in memory of those killed and in tribute to those slain.......}

Is baar nahin
Is baar jab woh choti si bachchi
mere paas apni kharonch le kar aayegi
Main usey phoo phoo kar nahin behlaoonga
Panapney doonga uski tees ko
Is baar nahin

Is baar jab main chehron par dard likha dekhoonga
Nahin gaoonga geet peeda bhula dene wale
Dard ko risney doonga,
utarney doonga andar gehrey
Is baar nahin

Is baar main na marham lagaoonga
Na hi uthaoonga rui ke phahey
Aur na hi kahoonga ki tum aankein band karlo,
gardan udhar kar lo main dawa lagata hoon
Dekhney doonga sabko hum sabko khuley nangey ghaav
Is baar nahin


Is baar jab uljhaney dekhoonga,chatpatahat dekhoonga
Nahin daudoonga uljhee door lapetney
Uljhaney doonga jab tak ulajh sake
Is baar nahin

Is baar karm ka hawala de kar nahin uthaoonga auzaar
Nahin karoonga phir se ek nayee shuruaat
Nahin banoonga misaal ek karmyogi ki
Nahin aaney doonga zindagi ko aasani se patri par
Utarney doonga usey keechad main,tedhey medhey raston pe
Nahin sookhney doonga deewaron par laga khoon
Halka nahin padney doonga uska rang
Is baar nahin banney doonga usey itna laachaar
Ki paan ki peek aur khoon ka fark hi khatm ho jaye
Is baar nahin

Is baar ghawon ko dekhna haiGaur se
Thoda lambe wakt tak
Kuch faisleyAur uskey baad hausley
Kahin toh shuruat karni hi hogi
Is baar yahi tay kiya hai
... Prasoon Joshi

The life

I take a small break from office
to give my lungs some fresh air
the lift takes me to ground zero
i leave immediately as if its insult to be there

heading towards the buildings front side....
i see prying eyes, a rapid stare
i smile for myself and smile to them
this girl all alone,no purpose,why she's here?

i am greeted by lads spilled out on grass
sleeping as if they know nothing else
this tickles something within me,
makes me feel homesick.

i return to my temporary abode all bustling with work
yet so lifeless and dull than life two feet below
i wait for the evening to come and sit by the window sill
thinking about the sly smiles ,the prying eyes

Me,the girl without purpose
i smile to myself and smile to thee

Dreams

Dreams begin from my window
And spread out to my lawn
From there they take shape and fly away
So much like a yawn

I gulp and try to lock them up
They laugh and set them free
I Behold and think to myself
I make them or they make me.

They were once small ,small enough to hold in palms
And now they grow by leaps and bounds
I see them push me through different worlds
New things in this sojourn i lost and found.

Yet i find myself amused all the more
Dreaming was a hobby now it is a chore
What was once a dream is fact today
Some to my liking some dismay

But one thing still annoys me
I seek dreams or they seek me??

The Test

I don't know for how long i will have to go through all this.It has been happening to me ever since i was four.AT these times i feel nervous,anxious and sometimes scared.My heart starts palpitating .I get queer glances,my room becomes unkempt,i remain an object of derision.My dietary habits change ,my sleep goes for a toss. My speech becomes indecipherable.I get long attacks of amnesia.My face looks sullen and sleep deprived.Why! just why do exams come?

They come when you least want them to.And come in the order of most difficult subject first.(as if that matters!!)And you can't cheat,you can't ask doubts at the last moment and you can't go to tuition because of them.(then how the hell are we supposed to clear them??) You can't play coz you have exam.You can't go to a party coz you have exam.You can't go on a vacation coz your exams are near(next month ain't that near after all!!).You can't watch a movie with friends coz they are all nerds who fail in exams.(god knows wat nerds they are talking about. i know only one who says he loves exams).It is strange that this four letter word has changed my interpretation of time so much.If someone says the neighbours are going for an outing i say their exams may have been over.

over??OH i forgot!They never get over.One or the other remains.When you clear maths you face history and the baton is forever passed to one another in concentric circles so that you never manage to get out of their trap.I wonder why their nomenclature is different if they are all same.Term tests,unit tests,class tests,driving test,blood test,eye test,IQ test,half yearly exam, entrance test. Funny.really.It is strange how everything we do depends upon our performance in exams.Inspite of the fact that i try my level best to keep my performance at par with the passing marks, i do get nasty stares from bespectacled spooky maths teachers and the red line of report card haunts me.

That was in tenth.The math teacher was so pleased with me for getting marks in single digits.(easy to total you know!!).In fact she used to declare..."this girl has individuality..originality...innovative ideas.She does each sum in a strange formula that i have never taught.She has strange knack for identifying fellows of her type and copy answers from them so that both of them get equal marks." At graduation level things are easier.I come to graduation because higher secondary was a tale of horror for my teachers instead of me. As soon as i used to enter the class my teacher would welcome me with a helpless smile.Poor lady our chemistry mam'--- Mrs Maya,she would struggle with her small frame and mount herself on the full size board to draw carbon structures and chemical reactions while i would laugh away at the sound of the chalk wondering why all carbon structures can't be fullerene .Biology mam would stuff my brain with botany that i would literally start seeing my DNA .Poor physics sir..i could never understand his examples in eleventh.(i used to laugh at them thinking they are jokes.)And in twelfth i remember i did a wrong acid test and my chemistry mam ducked under her desk thinking a nuclear holocaust had occurred.The lab was closed for two days because of my unique capabilities.

I was talking about graduation.It was easier because,the exams increased in number but decreased in severity.We could study how much we want or just nothing at all.There were no parent teacher meetings and lots of free time.But now as i go higher up the ladder of studies i fear what lies next.Having written the exams time and again,i am still struggling to find a correct way to face them.(ie,if there is any!) Lets see how many more to go for me.....

The Introspection

I have nothing particular to do with rickshaws.Neither do i have a soft-corner for them. But nonetheless i take them to office whenever i go, and in fact take them wherever i can. They are small ,irritating and gruelling .It sometimes feels like they are fitted with amplifiers.One jerk on the road and they go flying high in the air.Urban alternative to bullock cart.Poor rickshawallah whisks his rickshaw all day through the traffic ,meandering it through curves and tilting it on the rocky terrain specially created for us by PWD.(speed breaker) devoiding me of the opportunity to become prince(saving me from falling into open manholes along the road).I am comfortably seated on the rickshaw all this time enjoying the regular roller coaster of delhi roads. The rickshaw jumps,jerks,swerves and squeals but I reach office in time and hurl my 20 rs towards the rickshaw driver rather unthankfully.

My journey ends.But another one begins.From the building gates to the office lift.from office lift to second floor.From second floor to my desk.The rickshaw just follows me wherever i go...i somehow can't get over the images of rickshaws scurrying in the backdrop of gurgaon sky scrapers.There is something quintessentially old world about this.The Rickshaws are eco friendly, don't create noise when they run,they don't have the potential to kill.Their horn creates tingling in the ear. But you can't ignore them.They manage to create a stir inspite of the city noise and blur of vehicles.They can't protect you in rain or sun or can't even make you reach fastly.That's one reason why i like them.

They don't prevent me from seeing the sun.They keep me close to drops of rain.They help me see the potholes which i have learnt to ignore(courtesy four wheelers).We may ignore problems but that doesn't cease their existence.They teach me how one can prepare for ascent or descent in life.They teach me to read the contours of the sky.They teach me how to make amends,to repair what i spoil.They have taught me to read the signs of time.They inspire me to be myself inspite of everyone.They teach how not to get bogged down by a towering personality.They teach me how to be different in this mundane world. And the best gift they give me.......they slow down time........so that i get more time with myself around.

They give me all that this city can't.Sun,rain,fun,time and something that i had lost....myself.And yet i clearly acknowledge in the breathe of Delhi 'air'...what's so spectacular about a rickshaw??i wonder why they are there?

The Beloved Abode

I was a little girl of three when i was carried away to a distant land,where sun is as abundant as rain.The land of coconuts,the famous ayurveda hub,Kerala-- God's own country!!Kerala gave me more than i could take,far more than i could expect and much more than i had wanted.

This tropical elongated coastal plain on the Malabar coast is as famous for its placid backwaters as for its turbulent beaches.It is so difficult to capture its nostalgia on this page.A melting pot of tribes,communities,religions and languages,this place has moulded me way beyond comprehension.As we stands gazing its ostensible greenery and the awesome fauna one suddenly finds oneself away from materialistic pursuits.The coconut trees and the temple mahouts are an integral part of Kerala.Onam,Christmas are celebrated with fervour and so are Pongal and Vishu.The mouth watering idlis and vadas,the stuffed dosas and tingling pickles are a travellers delight.

Though i was born in Delhi,Kerala never appeared to me as a "second home".In fact,i still love the place as my own.My friends and my school constitute the best part of my memories.The fun filled 'onam sadya' treats,the rivers in the backyard,knee deep wading through rain water.....this place is truly divine.

The laid back life of Kerala helps you know what exactly is life.Where you have time to watch the rain fall,where you can count endless sunsets,where you can feel the cool sea breeze,where you can see temples and oil lamps,where you can smell the fresh jasmine flowers,where coffee tastes like heaven and where life seems like life.Where u have no hurry of being ahead and no worry of falling behind.

Where you can live each moment like a lifetime.See elephants dancing from tilted rooftops,and draw water from well,splash in nearby pools or build sand castles.Where u can see endless coconut trees and temple mahouts.

I never realised how time flied by and i turned seventeen.Life was beautiful but birds have to ultimately return to their roosts and so did i.Delhi came calling.I had to return to my home and leave behind my domicile.No regrets but there was pain of leaving something behind....which will always live within me and will be called mine....

Kerala...the land of miracles,---a country divine------

A day in my life

Today i rejoice the myriad hues of sun
lazing around on the string cot
peering at the sky with narrow eyes
wondering at the blue expanse of limitless depth
flowing easily into my bottomless mind
teasing the dark days into hiding
watching shadows grow long,then short and get longer again
listening to music within
disentangling my own dreams
enjoying the recoil and yet
hearing the stomach growl
for some fresh cooked rice
devoid of struggle,devoid of strife......
a decade of bliss in a moment's life!!