Tuesday, 29 December 2015

Her only crime was being a woman

With his third film The Circle (Dayereh , 2000) , Jafar Panahi , the Iranian film maker, earned the international stature as one of the world's most courageous artists. The 90 min visual treat in Farsi language dealt with the attrocities  faced by Iranian women. Fantasy or artificial environment have nothing to do with the 
movie. Yet, it is taken to the heart of the spectators because of his real nature.
Kambozia Partovi wrote the screenplay for the movie.
 
We cannot point out a single plot or a single protagonist in the movie. The film is all about  different women whose causes are different but the sufferings alike. So , when it was asked to write a film review which exhibits a feminine issue, the title The Circle popped in my mind, as it deals with all feminine phases and its issues.
Circle-it is a closed loop , likewise Panahi's The Circle also begins and ends with the same image . A woman talking to someone through an opening of a closed door. It's a girl - is the first words spoken in this film. Rather being celebratory the mood of the scene is mournful. Here, begins the issues as one more life sprouted but a baby girl. The scene took place in  a maternity ward where an elderly lady is informed that her daughter gave birth to a baby girl whereas the ultrasound scanning resulted in a boy. The grandmother fears that her daughter being abandoned by her son in laws. The biological fact that the sex of a baby is determined by the male germ cell is totally rejected and considered as a weapon against the female. The grandmother asks one of her daughters to inform her uncles. It's evident from their facial expressions that they don't want another one to be suffered like them being a girl. Here , at this point the narative diverts . The first is left open and without any solution. To be frank this portrays real life. We are driven into situations one by one in our life whether it's happy or sad. Our life cycle doesn't wait for the completion of one event to start the other.
The narration turns to three women, Arezou, Nargess and Pari. They appears as they are from jail and they want to be free from the authoritarian patriarchal norms. They wander along the street without any particular aim and away from the cob and they too lack proper identity.Arezou and Nargess is trying to get bus fare inorder to get into Nargess's home village. Arezou managed to put Nargess on the bus and they two get separated. As the law was against women travelling alone without a male relative, Nargess left the bus in search of Pari , another fugitive . She was also afraid of being arrested again. Then , the second narrative thread picks up the story of Pari and abandons Nargess. As her husband was executed Pari wants to get away from her pregnancy. Because it will be severe than death for a fatherless child to live in such a society.  Pari eagerly met Elhalm, another prisoner now a nurse seeking help, 
Unfortunately the nurse denied Pari's request . We cannot blame Elhalm because she reluctantly denied the request screaming that her background will be known to her spouse ,a doctor. At the street , Pari met a mother who left her daughter in front of a hotel due to economic instability. The words of the mother is really provoking. She says, " this is the third time I've tried to leave her". What will be the conditions lead the mother to do so? Where is her husband? All these are questions which are left without any answers in the film . The mother hopes her daughter being with some respectful family. Then another woman who was arrested as a prostitute is taken to prison. But the problem lies where the cob leaves the man freely. Only the woman is arrested. Prostitution is definitely an act deserving severe punishment but both men and women are equally prone to punishment. Hereby the camera focus on the cell concluding that all the women  characters from the earlier three narrative threads are at the prison. They failed in their efforts to be free. The closing shot resembles the opening shot ,(a guard calling out Solmaz Gholami, the woman with the baby in the first scene), completing the story circle.

   The end circle is formed even the narrative threads are incomplete in themselves. Several questions still prevail : what were the crimes done by the escapees? Who are the real culprits? Was it only because of being a woman?. The dark look of the film with occassional splash of colours ( the Van Gogh and the little girl's dress which signifies hope) and the dialogue make the movie readable and communicated the theme very well. The Iranian movie provides much information on the plight of women in Iran who have done nothing wrong except to be female. But I heard Iran is much liberal than Afghanistan under the Taliban rule. Khaleid hosseini, the prolific writer pays tribute to the plight of Afghan women. Let's speak for the world peace and Whoever crucify my holy religion with their deeds and poison it with their words must be brought in front of the world and punished without hesitation.
 

Monday, 19 October 2015

Online booking

 


         Sam was in his voyage to the cosmos with his favourite Angel in order to explore the unrevealed mysteries. He was taken aback witnessing electric fences in the moon. He catechized the Angel about the fences.
 Angel answered:" these are here for years. Don't you know about them?"
S: "No,for what they are?"
A:" These are placed here in order to separate the plots" 
S:" plots? Whose plots?"
A : "Plots of affluents of Earth !"
S:" Men of earth!!!!"
A:" Yeh! Everything is online. agencies are
    there who does this online booking      and fences are their offer to their clients in order to prevent invasions."
S:" what is the use?"
A: "in order to store the excess pesos they possess. Because here no tariffs or taxes are demanded.


        Sam contacted one of the online agencies and got struck by the answer.

" BOOKING CLOSED!
  No more plots to book."

Even the apparitions....


Hello,everyone😊
Yesterday , when we were preparing
for our exam,amidst the cacophony ,one of my friends uttered " will anyone take me to moon, I think there I could study without any distractions."
 All of a sudden an article of previous daily rushed into my mind. It was all about  some satellites captured images of apparitions in the moon😱. At first, the news startled me. But with my friend's words I got the reason why these apparitions are at the moon. They too may walked to moon in search of solace from these cacophonies.

When love exceeds....

When questions are hosted against
Then the mind turns evil mind
Evil mind gives birth to evil thoughts
But everything was for your sake
When possessiveness exceeds 
Everything went wrong
I did n't meant to hurt you 
My love forgot even my self
With tears I proclaim that the cause
Was only the love towards you 
Even the evil mind has 
The breath of love in it.......


Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Happy Muharram




May your new year be filled with happy ,peace and joy.
 Let's grab the unending reward from the Almighty Allah.....

                      DAD:

                                  a son's first hero,
                                  a daughter's first love.
 Fathers being the first hero of their babe show how to survive in this competitive world rather  than telling them what is life. No one can replace a father's care and a mother's love towards their babe. My family is my motivation and my parents are my asset . Feeling blessed to be born to such pretty hands and thanking the Almighty Allah for granting me the life. Oh my Lord grant me the opportunity to look after my parents as they cared me in my childhood. Hoping good to every parents in this universe . Just have a look at an example :how inspirational a father can-




Monday, 12 October 2015

Posting a post

          Till now I was awaiting for the birth of divine artistry instilled in me. But I understood that there isn't such a thing or we cannot record such a moment as its date of birth , when one of my friends said me," just enter the world of letters without any horoscope then definitely u can....". I praised my friends' expertise in scribbling down their thoughts. Everyone is well versed and got a green thumb in their writings. Vexed with lack of letters, I talked to my confidant in our consortium. I love to call it a consortium because all sort of business concerning us get discussed there. As the routine procedure I discussed the whole shebang at my college to him as if I'm a reporter. As a result, he knew most of my friends and teachers and their unique characteristics. When my chats got a serious tune he asked me to get a good sleep and by morning I will get the adequate stuff for my post. But, I was unable to sleep as my mind chants " posting a post" always. Actually, I'm neither a good writer nor a good reader . But here INTERNAL matters. Internals are the swords in the hands of our professors . They can cut the head and also gift it as symbol of victory. To bag this victory is an Herculian task. Internals: the essence that binds pupils to classroom. I should also write as my words decide my internals.

           "Sitting  desperately, I wandered through my mind to fetch an instinct to write on. (Like jack and Jill went up to the hill to fetch water)but I could not opt one. I heard mom complaining,'wherever there's an inch space there is her books,that too archaic...... If u don't want them then just clear the place...' I thought how lovely she is even when she scolds me. Putting the pen on my book I went there my sister handed me a book asking whether I need it or not. To my amazement it was my ' Creative Writings' book. Our tuitor made us to write something of our own every week. It was same  as compulsory social service ,compulsory creative writing. I remembered his words "you will worth it someday even if you disliked it."  I turned the pages with excitement gone through the letters  and was happy to get the stuff for my post. I read the poems and stories in it aloud and aloud forgetting my premises. I read them once,twice and thrice that too with my maximum voice...."
     Suddenly I felt a hand on my lips. I opened my eyes my hubby is next to me asking what happened. I searched for my book in my hands but it was not there. It took  a few minutes for me to realize it was only a dream. A profound dream. As by Freud: dreams are the particular form of thinking.  Now it get posted  expecting not being an amphigory in front of these cognoscenti...!

Thursday, 8 October 2015

  All I ever need is more of you....

     And here is where my heart whispers your name