Delhi 6

Here is the next installment in my Bollywood series. The film is "Delhi 6" and here is a synopsis from Netflix:

Although he was born in America, Roshan decides to take his ill grandmother back home to India. Arriving in Chandni Chowk, the ancient walled city of Delhi, Roshan finds himself on an unexpected inner journey as he learns about himself and his roots. Director Rakesh Omprakash Mehra based the film on experiences during his formative years in the Chandni Chowk area of Old Delhi.

*Just as a little side note, I just found out that Roshan is played by the son of the most famous actor in India, Amitabh Bachchan. He is also married to one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, Aishwarya Rai, who is also a Bollywood actor. I just saw her in an AWESOME film called "Jodhaa Akbar". But I digress...

At first, I didn't want to watch the film because I could tell that the production value was pretty dismal. But, I am glad I continued to watch the film, despite my first impressions. When it is revealed that Roshans' mother was Muslim, and his father was Hindu, I got sucked in. (I've been reading about the volatile history between the Muslims and Hindis in India lately.) The fact that Roshan is half Muslim and half Hindu plays an important part in the film. This tension is paralleled by the black phenomenon. When Roshan arrives in Delhi, reports of a "black monkey" have begun to circulate. At first, the black monkey is accused of merely causing mischief, but as the film progresses, it becomes a murderer, which causes massive hysteria in the area.

When Roshan and his grandmother first arrive, the people are loving and kind, and do all they can to assist them. Surrounded by so much selflessness, Roshan falls in love with the people and realizes that Delhi 6 is where he belongs. However, as the black monkey wreaks more havoc in the area, the dark underbelly of Delhi 6 begins to emerge. The Muslims and the Hindis start becoming suspicious of each other, assuming that the other has unleashed the black monkey on the other. As tension rises, Roshan isn't allowed in either the Hindu or the Muslim temples, even though he was initially welcomed in both. His half and half blood incriminates him. Roshan is disappointed to see people who were once friends attack each other because of superstition. He realizes that the people of Delhi 6 will kill each other if he doesn't do something. Because he loves them so much, he dresses as a black monkey and makes sure he is seen. As the people see the black monkey, they forget their differences and join forces to catch him. When they capture Roshan, they nearly beat him to death. A man that was also an outcast for being slow and also for being of low caste tells them to stop. He explains that Roshan had dressed as a black monkey to save them. He tells them that the black monkey dwells in everyone, just as God dwells in everyone, and that the people had given in to godlessness. The crowd looks at Roshan, nearly dead, and mutilated, and feel ashamed of their actions. This time, they unite their forces to save Roshan's life. They clear the streets and rush him to the hospital.

I can't believe how much this reminds me of Jesus Christ. People can say that they don't need a god, and that's fine. I've been there. I've thought that. But I think anybody in their right mind can also say that they aren't perfect. Every person on the planet can look back at their life and regret at least one thing, and that one thing probably involves hurting someone else. Sometimes, the consequences of those regretful actions have far more impact on someone than we could ever have known. Case in point: my great-grandmother, a wonderful woman, once called me a "stupid, stupid girl" in a flash of anger. To this day, her flippant remark haunts me. I believed her. Too often, I have to encourage myself to try something despite my lack of intelligence, because I am a stupid, stupid girl. My great-grandmother had no idea how much that hurt me. If there is an after-life, which I strongly believe there is, I think she wishes she could take it back. Another case in point: a friend of mine from high school says that I ruined his high school career. He won't tell me why, but I am still responsible for making someone miserable for at least three years. I REALLY wish I could fix that.

That's where a Savior comes in. People suck, and they give in to their dark side all too often. In a just world, none of us deserve to be happy. If we make someone unhappy, we should be unhappy too. This is when the whole Savior thing makes sense. If there was someone pure enough and powerful enough to be miserable and feel pain for everyone because we make each other so miserable, then we can be happy, even though we don't deserve it. Those people in Delhi 6 were dicks. They nearly killed each other, and then someone innocent, who had nothing to do with their sins. But, to save them from misery, Roshan sacrificed himself to take the consequences of their evil actions. He did it because he loved them.

Thank you once again, Bollywood. You think you're watching something totally campy, and your like, "oh too bad." Then... BAM! POW! Pearls of wisdom hit you in the face! And then you're like, "wow."

What I Needed to Know Today

Sukkot (Hebrew: סוכות or סֻכּוֹת, sukkōt, also known as Sukkos, Feast of Booths, Feast of Tabernacles) is a Jewish holidaycelebrated on the 15th day of the month of Tishrei (late September to late October). The holiday lasts seven days, including Chol Hamoed and is immediately followed by another festive day known as Shemini Atzeret. The word Sukkot is the plural of the Hebrew word sukkah, meaning booth or hut. The sukkah is reminiscent of the type of fragile dwellings in which the ancient Israelites dwelt during their 40 years of wandering in the desert after the Exodus fromEgypt. Throughout the holiday the sukkah becomes the living area of the house, and all meals are eaten in it. During the holiday, some Jews recite the ushpizin prayer which symbolises the welcoming of seven "exalted guests" into the sukkah. These ushpizin (Aramaic אושפיזין 'guests'), represent the seven shepherds of Israel: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David.

-Wiki Pe Diasite

"Why has the Lord commanded us to stay in the succah? Not only stay there, but everything: eat, drink, sleep, all in the succah. God wanted us to feel that just as the succah is a temporary dwelling, so is this world, temporary, passing, where we are merely guests."

-Moshe Belanga in the film "Ushpizin"

"When a man changes something within himself, he progresses, right? He thinks he has earned some rest. It's then that he's given an even harder test. No rest. No rest in this world."

-The Rabbi in the film "Ushpizin"

How do you make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.

-Nick reiterated this age-old adage

Flatland Hotel

Here are some lyrics for a new song that I have written called "Flatland Hotel" about how high school can often incorrectly establish social hierarchies that we are condemned to live with for the rest of our lives.

Barricade doors, rampart wall,

Deceptive answers resound these halls.

Pilgrims trek this monument,

Where the mortar's "us" and the bricks are "them."

Cornerstones in every room,

From doctrines honed with caustic brooms.

Sonic waves that block the sky,

Are trapped responses to "who am I."

Leave these shadows, leave your fears,

This is not your world, this is smoke and mirrors.

Forge your own way, feel the elation,

You exist for you, not for demarcation.

I see the flaws in your roof, in your walls,

and I'm leaving it, Flatland Hotel.

Rooms of seven times seventy

Arrange themselves in seven rings.

Blood is required to obey

Wall idols that give and take away.

Outcasts dwell the passageways,

No place for masters, just for slaves.

From their towers lords appear,

To suck their blood and drink their tears.

Leave these shadows, leave your fears,

This is not your world, this is smoke and mirrors.

Forge your own way, feel the elation,

You exist for you, not for demarcation.

I see the flaws in your roof, in your walls,

and I'm leaving it, Flatland Hotel.

Bollywood Balm, anyone?

I have been addicted to Bollywood films lately. It is much easier to find a Bollywood film online to watch than an old musical, and Bollywood films fulfill me like an old musical does. There is always a love interest, and a conflict that is beautifully resolved. Admittedly, there are more obvious aspects of Bollywood films that a majority of Americans could find repulsive. Their incredible length (most Bollywood films are at least three hours long), the overacting synced with incredibly dramatic background music (reminiscent of a Mexican soap opera), and the songs and dance based on rhythms and music that seem almost alien to us makes a Bollywood film seem like a cinematic nightmare.

Luckily, I was not deterred by those elements. I love long movies and books because it leaves enough room for sufficient character development. I love the overacting because I grew up on old movies where the actors were still using movements big enough for a stage yet too big for a camera. I just lived with the incredibly dramatic background music. I had watched enough Mexican soap operas to not be completely surprised. As for the music and rhythms, a wonderful and unfortunately lost friend of mine had exposed me to great singers like Lata Mangeshkar, accompanied by the tambura and the entrancing rhythms of the tabla. So, I was set. I had the recipe for success. As I said, I only watched Bollywood for the same reason I watched musicals. When I needed a good, old-fashioned pick-me-up, I looked past the absurdity of "Calamity Jane" and let it make me feel good. That was all I expected of Bollywood films: a silly and absurd balm to my soul. However, The extensive and austere library of Bollywood films has provided much more for me than a simple pick-me-up.

A few months ago, I happened upon one of the best Bollywood films I had ever seen called "Banaras: A Mystic Love Story." Not only was the music absolutely exquisite, but the cinematography revealed the compelling, ethereal elements of the holy city of Banaras. But best of all, the film was spiritually instructive. The film is literally oozing wisdom out of its pores. One of these pearls of wisdom manifests in the scene after the hero, Soham, is found abandoned on the banks of the Ganges by a sweeper woman, who raises him. The hero at this point is about ten years old and is crying. The sweeper woman asks Soham why he is sad, to which he replies that the teacher at school was hitting him because he was of a lower class. The sweeper woman asks Soham "who is the biggest in Banaras." Soham replies that the Ganges is the biggest in Banaras. She then asks if the river ever discriminated against him by not letting him dive in, or calling him low class. When he replies in the negative, she says "This means that only low class people talk of such low grade things. Not big people." Ahhhh. Beautiful. It makes me never want to look down on anyone again. The Ganges showed unconditional love to Soham, despite his low class. What an eloquent way to show that "the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it (Alma 30:44)" denote that there is a God, and even reveal part of His nature.

Perhaps the most profound offering of wisdom in the film was it's use of forgiveness. Soham grows up, is hired at the university to teach music, despite his low class. It is in music class that he meets and falls in love with one of his students, Shwetambari, whose father is a brahman priest and therefore of higher class. You probably know where this is going. Her parents freak out, but consent to Shwetambari marrying Soham because they can see that they are very much in love. A few days before the wedding, Soham is found murdered. Shwetambari leaves Banaras and does not come back until her father is on his deathbed, seventeen years later. After his funeral, Shwetambari's mother tries to drown herself in the Ganges, but is saved by her daughter. Her mother laments that she was saved, exclaiming that she had sinned against Shwetambari. She admits that she had had Soham killed. She couldn't stand the thought of her daughter marrying someone of lower class. She begs her daughter to punish her. Shwetambari tells her mother that she needs no penance from her. She had forgiven her. She knew seventeen years ago before she left that her mother had Soham murdered because she had found Soham's engagement ring in her mother's drawer. She then tells her mother to look and see who has come to see her. Her mother looks through the mists, and Soham's spirit smiles at her. She knew that he had also forgiven her. "But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. (Matt. 6:15)" I really need to remember that, and I have so little to forgive!

Oh, I could go on and on... Which is why I think I will start a series on this blog. (Even though only you, Nick, read it, and I don't even know if you have time anymore.) But I will try to spread the love, and impart some of the wisdom from these movies to others. I can't wait to write about the film "Delhi 6"...