And most happy to be so.
Ah! To be met each morning, by the fragrance of coffee (brewed sinfully strong) and a crinkly newspaper (forgive me Emerald Isles, I could not love thee so much, loved I, not caffeine more)!
And though there are probably a million better ways for a comeback, we shall go the obligatory-post-on-Rang-De-Basanti way (since that's what we most gleefully, hopped, skipped and bunked office for. A whole hour and a half early too!).
There there, Mr. Prufrock...shush now. We have watched, hence we must review, but we promise to make it short.
We liked the movie.
And we *loved* the title track.
For Prasoon Joshi's beautiful lyrics.
"Thodisi dhool meri, dharti ki mere watan ki
thodisi khushbu bahurai si, mast pavan ki
thodisi dhonkani vaali dhak-dhak dhak-dhak dhak-dhak saansein
jin mein ho junoon junoon voh boondein laal lahu ki"
For Rehman's authentic (as sarson-da-saag te makki-di-rotti) music.
And for Daler Mehndi's earthy, bursting-with-energy rendition of it.
It made me want to get up and *dance*. With utter abandon. And utter disregard for - 1) the fact that I don't have a punjabi bone in my body, and non-punjabi bones just cannot do the bhangra, and 2) the accompanying picture of five feet zero-inches of chocolate pudding, giving the impression of being electrocuted. Oh you can laugh! But just try telling me that you heard the song and your shoulders didn't start going bop-bop-bop to the beat (however subtly). And that your feet didn't show a sudden aversion to being in contact with the floor. Go on, try.
Ha! Knew you couldn't!
We also really liked the track 'Khoon Chala'. Soft, sweet and fist-sized-lump-in-throat evoking. Somewhat reminiscent of Mirza Ghalib's-
"Ragon main daudte rehne ke hum nahin kaayal,
Jab aankh hi se na tapka, to phir lahu kya hai."
One of the more poignant parts of the movie is a sepia scene between Kunal Kapoor (as Ashfaqullah) and Atul Kulkarni (as Ram Kumar Bismil). Kulkarni is trying to convince Kapoor to escape to Iran (or some Islamic country, I can't remember which one), saying "Vo tumhare apne hain", and Kapoor, burning with angst, and hurt and heartache that you can hear in his voice, asks, "Main tumhara apna nahin?".
This is a man to watch out for.
The fact that we have trouble disguising our drooling, is of course, a trivial and irrelevant matter (another post on this, soon).
So, to conclude an immensely un-analytical and un-informative review, we say, we loved it. It's a really good movie and if you haven't already, go watch it now. (See Mr. Prufrock? *Short*)
**I don't know what this word means. Can anyone help, please?
Apparently, there's more than that one word I didn't know the meaning of.
1. Baurai - No such word.
The word is Bahurai, and is derived from the urdu Bahr (or bahur) which means, 'of the sea'.
Hence, Thodisi khushbu bahurai si = The smell of the sea
2. Dhonk Nirali - No such word
The word is dhonkani, which means, bellows.
So, Thodi si dhonkani vaali saansein = The bellows of breath (or the breath used as bellows).
You live, you learn.