A few weeks ago Annie, Claire and I went to Mumbai. It took us a 17-hour overnight train ride – and an extremely unpleasant train berth companion – to get there but it was worth it.
The man sharing our four person compartment wore pointed snakeskin shoes and insisted on indiscriminately calling each one of us “babygirl” when he wanted something. In fact, sometimes he didn’t even bother speaking and would silently thrust his depleted food tray into our hands for us to put away. After dinner he decided to fragrance himself (along with the entirety of our squishy shared train compartment). He whipped out the Axe Deospray and, after thoroughly dousing himself, he proceeded to spray the air around, under, and above him.
Oh! I forgot to mention that within the first two minutes of sitting down he managed to introduce himself, proclaim that he was from out of town (South Africa) and demanded my phone number in the event that he might want to get a hold of me in Mumbai. Needless to say, I didn’t give him my digits.
Arabian Sea Waters
On our first day in Mumbai, we walked by the sea for an hour – first on concrete and then tentatively dipping our feet into the water. Eventually the heat got the best of us and we full-out waded through the tide. The sea was reminiscent of tepid bath water and filled with soaked garbage – not the most refreshing substance to ever touch my toes. However, much like the sticky popsicle of indeterminate flavour that I had ingested earlier, it made me feel damn good.
Nautical Windows & Palm Trees
Mumbai
While walking the streets of Mumbai we were repeatedly approached to act as extras in Bollywood films. Sadly, the men propositioning us were less-than-legitimate looking. We passed up our opportunity for fame and went to the movies as audience members instead.
Sometimes a serious analysis of the inner workings of Bollywood narratives yields troubling results, but, really, this film industry is the most successful in the world.
In 1896 the Lumière brothers’ films screened in Bombay’s Watson Hotel. Not to be outdone, in 1913 Dhundirah Govind Phalke – the grandfather of Indian cinema – made the first wholly Indian films, based on the religious epics of the Mahabharata and Ramayana. During WWII and the fight for Indian independence, Indian filmmaking was largely political and offered fervent social criticism. These days, however, mainstream Bollywood films appear to have little to do with religious epics and politics – unless we’re talking the politics of (PG rated) love-makin’ and hip-shakin’.
“Dhoom again. We’re gonna break the rules and party all the time” – “Dhoom 2″ gives you more stifled violence and lust than any Hollywood film, and its musical numbers dance circles around anything produced by the Western world’s film industry.
“Bunty aur Babli”:
Tender romance – no kissing allowed. That’s the other thing about Indian love scenes … they always leave you wanting more.
I don’t want to belittle the moral imperatives at work in Bollywood films though, as the dancing and singing are often mere accessories to blatant social messages. The tone is often a moralizing one that speaks to the greater good of the community. For example, “Dhoom 2″ and “Bunty aur Babli” are Bonnie and Clyde-esque tales, except that the thieves don’t go out with a bloody, bullet-riddled bang.
Instead, the criminal couples renounce their ‘evil’ ways, are forgiven by stern but kindly police officers and live for love instead of fame and fortune. Not so bad, right?
There is something odd about a film industry with an unequivocal central theme of undying, all-consuming romantic love (a love that begins outside of marriage) in a country where arranged marriages are the reality for many. Is the fight for love, then, something which should only take place on the screen? Perhaps I’m missing something.
India’s film industry also deserves a round of applause for its (baby steps) in the right direction concerning homosexuality. As reported yesterday in the Hindustan Times (HT), “for the first time ever, a Bollywood film scene showing two men locked in a steamy kiss has been passed by the censors.” For a nation that saw violent protests when Deepa Mehta ‘s “Fire” (a film about lesbian love – if you haven’t seen it, go find yourself a copy tonight – McGill Daily article) was released in India, this is a serious feat. Vinayak Azad – the regional censor board officer – apparently stated that the board “cannot object to the kissing scene because it is not unnatural sex, and besides, board members do not want to be seen as people who oppose homosexuality.” As I write this I realize it is slightly absurd to celebrate something that should be the norm. Nonetheless, this warrants recognition.
Plus, its a pretty delicious looking kiss.
