TO VIEW FROM A NEW WINDOW

That is difficult.

I am so used to viewing everything - viewing the world around me - from the windows I am already used to, the windows opened for me by 'others' ...

So, to open a new window, means I am 'aware' ... That, to genuinely appreciate anything in life, or any one for that matter, I need to view them with my new eyes, I need to open a new window ... Re write the whole programme on a fresh, blank CD.

Last night, I watched 'Slumdog Millionaire' with my family, and loved it immensely.

For almost a fortnight, we heard the heated debate so much, that it was very difficult to see the movie with new eyes. The mind had been influenced by the critics, film makers, actors respected journalists - yes, from a tycoon to a slum dog, every body had tried to 'comment' about the movie.

"Just forget about the debate - 'us' Vs. 'them', and simply enjoy the pure cinematic experience ..." a critic had written. "Don't watch 'Slumdog ...'. It sucks." This was the big mouth of Arindam Chaudhary shooting. "Awesome," this was Lorraine, my student. "Bloody Indian s..t! Now the world can see it on a big screen ... You know, all those 'Oscars' are for this s..t!" My friend Reddy was disgusted by the 's..t' scene in the movie. "Ratings make no sense for this movie ... You will anyway watch it ..." another critic had concluded with his two-and-a-half-or-so rating.

So, by the time, we had landed up in the multiplex, a hundred screens were already operating. It was hugely difficult to watch this movie from a fresh perspective, without being influenced by what others - both whom you respect or detest - had been saying.

And, surprisingly, all three of us left the theatre with the same feeling: It was a good movie. A simple story, brilliantly told on the big screen. For us, there wasn't a single dull moment. For us, it was a simple story set in our city's slums ... wrapped in all the hues that envelop the human dream.

I, a sentimental fool, could connect to this simple dream. My hardcore, pragmatic wife, too, could. My discretely choosy son, too. We all experienced the same tears and smile, same anxiety and jubilation. Nothing 'sucked' us; 'Oscars', did not matter for us ... There was a simple story - a Cinderella story - and it kept us glued.

Such moments are rare.

If we enter the cinema hall, already hoping to watch a dud show, what will we end up watching?

It can't be any thing other than what we had 'hoped' and 'wanted' to watch.

Some times, a fresh window just opens for us. I said, 'some times'. Most of the times, we watch the 'show' from the same old windows, with the very same eyes ... that we hardly find any thing worthwhile to appreciate ...

It happened just this morning.

We had returned late at 1.30 a.m. from the 'Slumdog ...' show. I used to wake up at five everyday for the past one or two months. I lacked good sleep. So, this morning I had decided to wake up late, and leave late for my work. At 9.30, when I reached our colony gate, there was only one auto waiting, and I got into it. Just a little distance behind me a lady and her young son were pacing up towards the gate. Normally, I call out to even a stranger and offer a lift. This time, I simply ignored them, leaving them behind to wait!

Why did I do that? It is very unusual - and unlikely - to happen in my case. Yes, but it happened. I simply 'ignored' them, almost cold-bloodedly, and proceeded.

Why?

Because, she had done the same thing to me, a couple of times, before!

I reacted from that level. I viewed it from that 'window' ...

And, I think, that was the 'Question' ... and that was the 'Answer'!



GERALD D'CUNHA

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MUTHU KODI KAWARI HADA

WHEN A BIRD IS ALIVE, IT EATS ANTS... WHEN THE BIRD DIES, ANTS EAT THE BIRD

"WE CHOOSE OUR JOYS AND SORROWS LONG BEFORE WE EXPERIENCE THEM."

THE WILD, WAYSIDE FLOWERS
There is, always, something extra-ordinary in the wild, wayside flowers...