Bangalore or Bengaluru?

Bangalore Days was a wonderful movie. Especially so because just like the protagonists, I was also very excited with the prospect of moving to the city. As a starry eyed teenager, whenever I was told that there exists a city in the South which is bigger that Delhi, more cosmopolitan than Hyderabad and cleaner than Kolkata, I wanted to become a part of the hustle and bustle of this city.

Was Bangalore a revelation when I finally got here a few years later? In some ways yes. The cosmopolitan aspect of it was true. You could find both Punjabi uncles as well as loud Bengali aunties in the midst of Malayalis and Telegites. The Kannadigas were difficult to find though.

For a first timer, it comes across as too huge a city to fathom in a day or more. It’s too vast and too impersonal at some level. In the film Divya remarks that there is no one and nothing in the city that she can call her own.

That sentiment of alienation among the crowd of Majestic and Shivajinagar is very familiar to me. Everyone is too caught up in their own worlds to notice the other. However, after a series of dramatic events, DIvya, Kuttan and Arjun come to terms with the ways of the metropolitan.

For a conservative good boy like Kuttan it means being comfortable with walking on the side of road where a couple is kissing. For Arjun, that means learning the importance of a career and establishing one self.

The wanderer becomes the settler and the conservative becomes a liberal. It is a city where dreams come true. A place not restricted by traditions and customs as much as the rest of the country; yet a place which smells of culture.

Bengaluru is Bengaluru for some and Bangalore for others. It is the go between for some who are seeking a transformation from traditional living to modern living and vice versa.

The American girl that Kuttan ends up marrying is the example of how people come here seeking culture. That aspect of the film rings a bell.

But what the filmmaker missed was the traffic, the over-crowded BMTC buses that Arjun travelled on, the eve teasing that Divya could have faced when she came back home alone post classes and the judgmental glances of the neighbours when Kuttan stayed back at his girlfriend’s house.

However, it is imperative that one gives artistic freedom to the filmmaker.  Hence, keeping his perspective in mind, the film definitely did a good job in portraying the spirit of this vast, multifaceted city.

What Pink did to me and what it didn’t!

I was reluctant to watch the movie- Pink since the very first moment. The reason was simple- whenever I watch films discussing gender issues and women’s issues in particular, my blood races and my heartbeat quickens. It makes me think and that is the worst thing I can do to myself because I over analyze to such an extent that I lose my night’s sleep.
 
Pink made me cry. Not because it had powerful actors (which it had) and a predictable plot (frankly a daily affair for those of us who get a chance to glance at the newspaper every other day), but because it showed Delhi for what it was.
 
I could recall the whistles and the whisperings behind my back about my cup size while I walked down the streets of Karol Bagh as I saw Minal being molested in the car by 4 boys. I could visualize how it must have felt as Falak was asked to leave her job. I could feel the gaze of the colony-walas on the girls as they got home late at night and their judgmental look was all too familiar to me.
 
As a girl who has lived alone in an apartment, had more male friends than women ones and as one who loves to party and drink, I felt the pain of Falak, Minal and Andrea. After all, which lady in 2016 would not?
 
I cried internally and then after a few drops of salt water down my eyes, the grand Amitabh Bachchan came to the rescue. The father figure, the best brand ambassador patriarchy can ever have (pun intended), was speaking for women’s rights. NO means No was hammered into the viewer’s head.
 
But I had a problem. I asked myself, “all of that is fine…justice prevailed at last, but why was it the same old narrative?” Why was a man defending a woman- the ‘pitas’ and the ‘bhais’ we tie our rakhis to?
 
Then I asked myself- how would it be if a woman had played Amitabh’s role. Instead of the father figure, if a mother figure had defended the girls or the girls had defended themselves, how would the movie have panned out?
 
After all Akshay Kumar could defend himself in Rustom. How about Minal doing the same in Pink? Then my twisted mind came to one conclusion- women, if not Kali when required (and a situation like this requires it), will become lazy if they rely on a man to solve their problems for them.
 
I don’t know about other women, but I do (unconsciously) turn to my father and boyfriend for protection when I am eve-teased or harassed. I never do what has to be done myself.
 
So today, after a day on intense debate and watching a film that made me cry, I take home one lesson only- never again will I turn to anyone else but myself for defending me. If that means fighting till the end and losing the fight, I will do so unashamedly.
 
I will lose my sleep tonight just thinking about what my world would be like- where a lady defends her own like Kali did. Call me a dreamer, but I do hope to God that I am not the only one!