Thursday, February 27, 2014
I love talking, did I tell you that?
As a novelist, I spend most of my time, locked in (uneasy) battle with my keyboard, earphones stuck to my ears as I squeeze words out of my oft-fatigued brain. As I am doing now. With this post.
Sometimes to break the singularity and solidarity of my profession I venture out into the real world and do what everyone else does. Hang out with friends, eat out with family, read much-beloved and new books, hold deep discussions with God about my future and yeah, watch movies.
I watched Highway yesterday.
Go watch the movie, is all that my review is going to be. PLEASE, I will add.
And now, onto the talking.
There are a few things that dig hooks into your heart and make your soul a better place for having witnessed it. Highway is one such thing. Not because of its cinematic representation of acting and story and music at some of its finest, but because it left me feeling…just feeling. I am a tactile, sensitive being. As a writer, I am required to be so. EXPERIENCE and FEEL things that the whole world feels and then translate it into words that the world will read. It is not the easiest thing, and boy, is it painful.
Highway is just such a sweet pain.
I felt. A whole gamut of emotions ranging from pride, wonder, sorrow and loss to cheer and glory. A simple movie, really, my mom and most-cherished movie companion called it “a low-budget film” (she loves it too, by the way) but it is powerful. Occam’s Razor at work: The simple thing is often the right thing.
A few scenes stand out for me. The scene where Veera (Alia Bhatt) is screaming her fiance’s name as thugs kidnap her and thunk her face-down on the hood of her own car. Her helplessness and contempt for the man she has to marry comes through with just a single shriek. Veera’s monologues, which are artlessly deep. The Patakha Guddi song which is still looping in my brain, and playing in my ears as I write this blog. Randeep Hooda’s Mahabeer whose angst is so perfectly captured through his hardened and bleak eyes.
He reminds me of Krivi Iyer, my own, broken, damaged hero of Kingdom Come (Harlequin India, April 2014). They have suffered loss. And they will survive to suffer loss again. The lead character Veera, understands this so aptly by the end that I had tears in my eyes too. Not at her loss, but at her willingness to accept the broken parts of herself and move on. She is a warrior, just like Krivi’s Ziya, who comes through after surviving the horrors of hell.
I told you at the beginning that this was not a review. I am just talking.
If you still need any reason to watch Highway, watch it to see an India that has been very cleverly shown by the talented and multi-faceted Imtiaz Ali.
He is one of the reasons I stick to writing books and not movies.
Now, I will go back to writing my next. Haven’t decided yet. But am pretty sure, the hero will have strong undertones of dark, damaged and fierce. Just like Mahabeer Bhaati.
Writer Gal aka Aarti V Raman