There's been furore and outrage - on both sides of the proverbial fence.
Over the G word.
Now, we all know what I am talking about. I haven't seen the film, and I don't know how good or bad it is.
I don't yet know if its just a sensational, audaciously naked attempt to grab the spotlight by the balls or whether its actually a cult classic. But I would like to watch it someday for sure. Because be what it may, Gandu started out lurking in the by lanes of Calcutta - and landed up as tenacious little fly in the censor board's cold plate of soup.
But I also want to watch for something of a personal reason as well.
For that I must tell you an anecdote.
Flashback, 1987, Dumdum, Calcutta.
In suburban football field the striker of the opponent team charges at our goal. Its a weak shot and a weaker attempt by the goalie to save it. Sheer catastrophe, they walk away with a goal that they never had.
I scream at the goalie : Tomar moto aatobodo gandu duto dekhini(I have never seen a bigger Gandu than you).
Roughly translated that's what I said, in the real sense of the word, I don't know what a bigger gandu would be.
Anyway, now I was 11 years of age and had for the first time used the G word, that too in public, on a football field, amongst boys of my age and several others who were much older. Someone grabs me by my ear and takes me to the sidelines(there were no sidelines, it was pond along the edge of the field). An older boy(sort of prefect equivalent) pulls me up literally and demands and explanation. How did I learn this word? Why did I use it? Did I know what it meant? No answers to these questions were required. I was asked to leave the field and also advised that my father, respected 'Bhodrolok' and captain of the local mountaineering team will be informed about me getting all lippy. He would know how to fix me the best.
No doubt he would. I expected to be belted and thrown out of the house that night. I spent 48 agonising hours waiting for the hammering and the expulsion followed by the humongous humiliation of it all. Nothing happened. My father had clearly no clue of my utterance of the G word. A week passed by, my agonising torment whimpered out slowly as I realised that the boy who was so eager to complain must have changed his mind.
Because to complain was a direct acceptance of the knowledge of the existence of the G word.
And that would not look too good on his resume either. So plans were cancelled, I figured.
This is think is a perfect example of the kind of censorship(parental, peer, state) we have grown up with. When I say we I mean people who turned 15 before the 90s were over. The next lot would probably not know of this kind of control and censorship, however they can see shades of it over the furore over the commercial release of Gandu. After all the censors boards probably have people from our parents generation approving or disapproving content.
I believe our parents, my parents, modelled themselves around the state they lived in. I mean the larger state of India, not just West Bengal. Where the state played the role of a dogmatic, controlling parent - a final arbiter of what the children, the people of the nation are fit to consume and what is not suited to their moral upbringing as members of a civilised society.
Of course the state's reason for control - just like parents worked at several levels. Just like my father's.
He always encouraged debates and arguments in the house - and we often engaged on various subjects. Some icky, some not so bothersome. And I found that whenever my Father was nearly losing an argument, he pulled out the special provisions act and revoked all of my freedom of speech and expressions. Apparently I was free to express myself only till the point it pleased him. It reminds me of Arundhati Roy's loose canon statement on Kashmir. I am not going to go into the debate over the validity of her statement. I don't see any. But I wont refuse her the right to speak her mind - we are afforded the right to speech, which is not limited by only what the state would like to hear us say.
August 13th's Mint Lounge(I cant go through the trouble to quote in exact words) supplied a splendid example of this sort of thinking. At the turn of the 1990s with the advent of the cable TV. PV Narasimha Rao cancelled the launch of a live news channel - stating it would be too dangerous to have live news channel where anyone could say anything, without state control and government censorship.
Thankfully, we have come past that.
Though, I am quite sure that live news has not exactly been a step forward in terms better media coverage and free and frank reportage. But, that exactly is a case in point - the fears of the ex PM is unrealised, this brand of live TV journalism is not bringing anything or anyone to its knees. And as its consumers, we know that with a smirk on our faces.
But we have the choice, to take it or reject it. And we do.
I dont know if Gandu will actually see a full theatrical commercial release or not. Surprisingly, before the advent of the internet and freely accessible porn, my generation have grown up in places like Calcutta with a phenomenon called the 'noon-show'. These were sex flicks in the garb of public discourse on sex education and sometimes no garb at all - screened around lunch time, before matinee, in Calcutta's old theaters. We have all bunked classes to attend these shows, some have had the bad luck of running into their elder brothers, uncles and sometimes unfortunately, their fathers in the back row.
I dont know how these shows existed at a time of such control and repression. Or how today, in the post liberalisation India there is so much control over content which can clearly be dished out for a mature audience. The choice of who wants to see a film like Gandu should entirely be left to the audience which can decide for itself whether its cult material - or not.
It's an inconvenient word, an unpronoucable explitive - but if it comes out of the iron curtain, and if two genrations can discuss it accross the table - as mature individuals empowered by good sense and freedom to choose - we would have come a long long way from the football fields where bad boys said bad things, and were repressed and suppressed.
And now for something a little more substantial, to whet your appetite.
ZINFANDEL TRAILER 2
(Use headphones for best audio results.)
We have canned about 9 minutes of the film.
The footage might look slightly grainy due to passing through iMovie, I am running an older version. Once it passes through Premier it would look like it should - sleek 5D footage.
Track Courtesy : Mr. Nobody
Track name : Silence
Source: Jamendo
