The Lives of Others - Of Convictions, Conscience and Acceptance...

It's been a little over three months since Advait came into our lives and needless to say, life has changed quite a bit. Most of our time these days revolves around feeding him, changing his diapers, putting him to sleep and then doing whatever it takes to ensure that he stays asleep. The last part, I must add, is easier said than done!!! But fatherhood, apart from bringing in its own share of responsibilities, has also given me an opportunity to revisit some of the things I had always wanted to do but couldn't, either because of changing priorities, other interests or simply because I never got around to doing them.

Of course, there isn't a whole lot one can do when a three-month-old is sleeping right next to you. Watching a movie in a pitch-dark room with your headphones on, however, is certainly one of those things.

I have also been doing a fair bit of soul-searching since becoming a father. Perhaps it's this new phase of life or simply an urge to reconnect with things that move me emotionally and intellectually. ChatGPT, my new source of internet searches, recently recommended a bunch of movies based on my interests in politics, history and the events that shaped the world over the last century.

One of them was The Lives of Others, a German film set in East Berlin during the final years of the GDR. I knew I had watched it some 8-10 years back but honestly couldn't remember much of the story, let alone the emotional depth of its characters.

And what an experience it turned out to be!!!

I would probably put it among the most poignant movies I've ever watched, perhaps alongside Schindler's List and The Pianist (definitely need to revisit both too). These are movies I absolutely love but wouldn't watch too frequently. I have this propensity to get completely sucked into good cinema and films like these can leave me rather depressed afterwards. Anyways, my psychological vulnerabilities are a topic for another day.

The movie revolves around Georg Dreyman, a celebrated play-writer, his girlfriend Christa-Maria (CMS), and Gerd Wiesler, a Stasi officer assigned to investigate Dreyman.

What fascinated me was Wiesler's transformation.

Initially, he is a dedicated soldier of the state. Cold, calculated, ruthless and absolutely convinced of the righteousness of his actions. In the opening scene, he psychologically breaks down a suspect during interrogation. Later, while teaching these techniques to Stasi students, he marks the name of a student who questions whether the process is inhuman. Such is his conviction!

But things start changing when he discovers that Minister Hempf's interest in investigating Dreyman has little to do with national security and everything to do with his desire for Christa-Maria. His faith in the institution he serves begins to waver.

Then comes a particularly moving scene. Following the suicide of Dreyman's friend, he plays Sonata for a Good Man (don't go searching - this is a fictional piece) on his piano. Wiesler, listening through his surveillance equipment, is visibly moved. I believe this is where his transformation truly begins. He starts identifying emotionally with the people he is investigating rather than treating them as mere subjects of surveillance.

What follows is a remarkable progression. Wiesler starts protecting Dreyman, concealing his political activities and eventually removing the evidence that could have destroyed him. In doing so, he sacrifices his own career.

But even after all this, there are obviously limits to what he can control. Despite his best efforts to protect Dreyman and Christa-Maria, he is unable to prevent the latter from committing suicide right in front of him. Christa-Maria, threatened by Hempf with the destruction of her acting career, had been coerced into informing the Stasi about Dreyman and the location of the incriminating evidence. Unaware that Wiesler had already removed the evidence, she is overcome with guilt for having betrayed Dreyman and takes her own life. There is something particularly tragic about this. Here is a man who has finally decided to do what he believes is right, yet finds himself helpless in preventing the very tragedy he was trying to avert

Years later, following the collapse of the GDR, we see Wiesler delivering newspapers, leading an apparently isolated and uneventful life. Meanwhile, Hempf, who shamelessly exploited his political position, continues living comfortably. Political systems collapse, ideologies disappear, yet those who know how to wield power often seem to retain their privileges. Always holds true!!!

Dreyman eventually discovers how Wiesler had protected him and dedicates a book to him. Wiesler finds it in a bookstore, and when asked whether he'd like it gift-wrapped, replies, "No. It's for me."

What a beautiful experience this movie was!

But I don't necessarily see Wiesler's journey as one of redemption as is the general consensus. For me, it is more about acceptance.

What exactly is redemption? Does doing the right thing today absolve us of yesterday's actions? Can we undo our past simply because our understanding has changed?

I don't think it's that simple.

Wiesler acted according to his beliefs when he served the Stasi. When his understanding changed, so did his actions. And he accepted the consequences of both.

Maybe I am reading too much into his character. Maybe his apparent acceptance was simply resignation. Whatever be the reasons, I found his journey far more fascinating than a conventional tale of redemption.

And perhaps that's what great cinema does. It leaves you questioning your own understanding of things long after the movie has ended.

As for me, I finished watching it with Advait sleeping peacefully beside me, completely oblivious to the emotional roller coaster his father had just been through.

Perhaps something a little less emotionally exhausting next time. After all, there's another feeding session around the corner!!! :)

ASURA - The tale which could have been ...

In my childhood dadaji always used to tell me that Ravana was a very learned man, a Brahmin, and THE greatest administrator India has ever seen. ‘Sone ki Lanka’ he used to say, where everyone lived an affluent and contented life. It was an isopolitical society where everybody had the same privileges. Ravana waged a war with Rama in order to achieve salvation. He knew that Ram was an incarnation of Vishnu and by dying at his hands he would achieve moksha. As I grew up I realized that there are always two sides (or more) to a story; however, I could never find Ravana’s. I had also developed a liking for the ‘fringes of the society’ and was very interested in the psyche of such people. However, every literary genius had written about the bravados of Rama and Lakshman and how virtuous they were and vilified Ravana at the same time. I felt that Ravana did not get a fair trial at the hands of our great historians. I always cringed for someone who would go against the tide and put up a good account of Ravana and the fundamentals he stood for.

It was a sheer coincidence when I was browsing through the plethora of books at CROSSWORD that I came across 'ASURA – Tale of the vanquished' and lo my wish was granted! “For thousands of years, I have been vilified and my death is celebrated year after year in every corner of India. Why? Was it because I challenged the gods for the sake of my daughter? Was it because I freed a race from the yoke of caste-based Deva rule? You have heard the victor’s tale, the Ramayana. Now hear the Ravayana, for I am Ravana, the Asura, and my story is the tale of the vanquished. As soon I as I read this text on the back page of the book I knew this was what I had always wanted. I started reading it in the store itself and breezed through the first 40 pages in no time. The premise looked promising and I purchased the book without any second thoughts.

I finished the book in 4 sittings. Blazing through the pages in the first, carefully absorbing every word in the second, browsing through the chapters in the third and dozing off in the fourth. When I finished it the only thought I had was ‘what it could have been’. The experience was more disappointing rather than enriching and it seems like the author Anand Neelkanthan was either not willing to paint Ram in a grey shade or was not sure of how to justify Ravana’s actions which led to the epic war. It did not feel like Ravayana, rather Ramayana through the eyes of Ravana.  It did not have the perspective of Ravana, it just had his narration.

To begin with, the character build-up of Ravana was exceptional. His struggles, his learning process, his unconcealed love for Vibhishana, his rant about the ten basic human emotions in front of Mahabali (the first great Asura king and Ravana's mentor), to sum it all, his human nature was what was fascinating. His outright contempt for the Deva ways, the inherent and rigid caste-structure in their society, the way they treat their women led him to believe in the exactly opposite principles of secularism and egalitarianism. He strived hard to put together an army of Asuras who would finally begin their all-conquering march. The character of Bhadra, a lowly Asura who would do anything for Ravana and who strongly believed in the principles of his tribe was also enchanting. However, as soon as the Asura march began, the novel started losing its hold on me. Ravana blatantly started defying the principles he stood for. His armies looted, raped and plundered the conquered empires. He displayed no attempt on his part to stem the lechery of his army and showed no remorse in the destruction of Vishnu/ Deva temples. Some might justify this over the pretext that he has been portrayed as a human and he might have wanted his revenge (a form of anger, a base human emotion which Ravana did not give up as was asked by Mahabali) over Devas for all the years of oppression. But as soon as he deplored Rama for his killing Bali while hiding behind a tree, my head spun out of control. Here is a man who got his first major break coz one of his soldiers (Bhadra) poisoned the dinner of Kubera (the then Lanka supremo) and his men, while his own army was hiding in the mountains saving themselves from Kubera’s wrath. What right does he have to pass a judgement over the righteousness of another person’s means of achieving success? His being human argument does not hold here as he does not even contemplate his opinion in this matter. Later on the novel, he rapes Mala, a lowly servant and sires a son, Athikaya, whom he promptly disowns for all practical purposes. Did he not rant about women’s right to equality and all? He himself is shown to be secretly proud of his half-brahmin lineage and the color of his skin and considers himself to be superior to other Asuras. I agree that he is being portrayed as a human but is standing up to your principles, even remotely, superhuman? Although he rejects his son sired from a maid, he unflinchingly accepts his wife after she was violated by the vanaras. This behaviour might seem as magnanimous to some but was utterly baffling and contradictory to me. Even his empire which he promised to build on the Asura principles of equal rights to all was not even close to perfect. In fact, it was closer to the modern day India, where the elite and their families enjoy all the benefits of the bureaucracy while the poor continue to live in super-shoddy conditions. The driving force of this economy was the raging and ever-increasing gap between the rich and the poor rather than inclusive growth. Ravana or rather the author on Ravana’s behalf defends his economy in certain illegible and inapprehensible ways. He employs extremely violent ways to curb the insurgencies in his territory. How can such a person be described as a model king and an able administrator is beyond my grasp.

Let’s move on to the perception of Rama which the author tries to create in the mind of the reader. Actually other than carping about the Deva ways, he presents no logical argument to justify the somewhat negative image of Rama he’s trying to create. He himself does not seem sure about his line of thinking. The only reason Ravana seems to hate Rama for is that Rama is the husband of her daughter Seeta AND a Deva. Factors such as Agni-pariksha of Seeta and the slaying of Shambuka, a Shudra who was killed by Rama for defying the deva rule that the ‘lowermost’ caste are not supposed to learn Vedas, do not hold much ground as the former happened after the demise of Ravana and the latter is one of the many versions of this story that the author used for his convenience. I could not gather why Ravana hated him so much. The only points which worked for me towards the end of the story were how Bhadra was revealed as the washer-man who incepted the idea of Seeta’s Agni-Pariksha in Rama’s mind and a small little passage where he empathizes with his king for having his own share of problems. Other than that, the narration of the entire warfare was drab and bland and could have been dealt with in a manner befitting a war of such epic proportions.

Maybe I expected too much out of the novel. Maybe Ravana was not a rebel I supposed he was. Maybe the author is not much of a rebel himself. Whatever be the reasons, this novel simply did not do enough justice to the persona of the enigma we know as Ravana

That Brownie Sundae ...

Ok. So I am back with another attempt to canvas my thoughts and like my previous effort this also is about one of my experiences albeit this one has a much more jovial tone (I gave my best shot). So here I go ….


I have had many eventful days in my life but the 4th of December 2010 really deserves a special mention. If you are thinking that why am I writing about an event which occurred more than a fortnight ago the answer is “aalasya” . The sinful pleasure that you derive out of sitting on a sofa, munching chips, watching TV and doing nothing else is, to say the least, other-worldly. But my liking for this activity is a topic for another day so let’s get back to the topic at hand. 4th December 2010. I had already had a pretty strange and hectic day in Gurgaon and so on my way back I decided to take a halt at Connaught Place for KFC (there are only 2 KFCs in entire Gurgaon, what a pathetic place!!!). Anyways, I finished my meal there, 2 pieces of crispy chicken and a zinger burger (slurrrrrp!!!) and asked for a brownie sundae on my way out. Now I must add here that I totally love my Brownie Sundae, it’s just one of those temptations I can’t resist and I don’t give a damn to the direction in which I am heading when I have one in my hands. So, I was walking in complete oblivion when out of nowhere I saw a “harmless” shabby child carrying a gunny bag walking briskly in my direction uttering “ice-cream de do”. I thought him to be another one of those beggars so I just gave him a nonchalant “nahi” for a reply and kept walking. “Main tera peecha nahi chhodunga!!! Ice-cream toh deni padegi!!!” was the next thing he said and I realized what I was up against. Here was a tough soul. Toughened maybe by the years of being pushed around and shooed by the people. I retorted “hattt!!!” but there wasn’t much conviction in my tenor and perhaps he sensed it. I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction eating my ice-cream though all of a sudden I was not enjoying it as I would have wanted to. The guy was a real nagger. He caught hold of my jacket. I somehow freed my jacket from his grasp and started walking faster. He followed me shouting “Tere pet mein darad hoga!!!”. I was all at sea as to how to tackle this nagger-beggar when suddenly I found my savior, an Accent parked at the far end of the street!!! I literally ran towards it. The kid was still following me. He really wanted that ice-cream and I was all the more determined not to let him have it. I started running around the Accent (Yes, I actually did that) and he stalked me. To my relief, there was a pillar near the bonnet of the car and every time he used to cross that his gunny bag would get stuck for a moment or two giving me those precious seconds to finish up my sundae (:D). He was a tough soul but now I can really say that about myself as well ( :) ). Finally I finished my ice-cream and told him “Bhai khatam ho gayi. Ab toh jane de.”, but he didn’t believe me until I stopped and handed him the empty cup to which he replied ”ek ice-cream ke liye itna kaun bhaagta hai!!!”. I started walking away and quickly became conscious of the small crowd (including some smokin’ hot girls) that had gathered over there to watch the proceedings. I somehow escaped their stares by just looking down and entering the first metro gate nearby. Aaaaaaah !!! The ordeal was over at last!!! (:D)







PS: Those of you thinking of me as a heartless creature please note that I really don’t approve of encouraging such practices employed by beggars and moreover I don’t give my brownie sundae to anyone !!!  :)

When the time froze ... and so did the traffic

As I was heading out of my office after another mundane and monotonous day at work, I saw something which really caught my eye, a deserted Taratala road, a rarity at this time of the evening. During my two months of stay at Kolkata, I had never witnessed this before. I was elated, as the thoughts of reaching home earlier than usual crossed my mind. But the joy was ephemeral. I am just not lucky enough when it comes to matters like this. I realized soon that something was wrong, or rather, something was up. After walking a few paces down the road in search of some means of conveyance, I could see why the road was so empty. One side of the road was blocked off by some traffic cops who were communicating with their senior officials on a walkie-talkie and were giving guys trying to cross over some serious beating. The other side must have been blocked off at some place where I could not see it. The footpath was crowded with onlookers as if some divine incarnation was getting down right there from the heavens. I asked a person standing beside me "What's all this shit for?". "Rahul Gandhi aa raha hai!!!", he replied, with an enthusiasm so glowingly hot, it seemed like Rahul Gandhi would get down of his car and give this guy a hug right there. Even people from my office were there, stranded because of lack of transport, people who would never engage in any conversation with anyone other than that concerned with their work and thought that politics is lame were suddenly in awe of him, praising his policies on matters so abstruse that i didn't get a thing.

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie started buzzing loud with gibberish. The moment had arrived. Very soon, the caravan started passing us. One, two three .... i kept on counting, total 12 SUVs in all, with Rahul Gandhi, the "Peoples' Guy" in one of them. The crowd was cheering the convoy and waving their hands at each and every one of the vehicles. I felt like saying "Dude !!! The windows are all covered in black and moreover he wouldn't even bother to look at you guys." Someone whispered " Baara - Baara gaadi !!! Humaare paas toh ek bhi nahi hai." There was not a score of sarcasm in his voice but of revere, of admiration. The convoy went, the road block was lifted and the traffic police who were so very present till that moment, suddenly vanished. Life returned to normal at Taratala road.