25 Sept 2016

Thoughts after a great flight

As one's fascination with a particular art increases, one begins to revere the form more than the content. In a film-making context, this would mean that with enhanced understanding, visuals would begin to carry more weight than the plot (which is a constant struggle for me).
Some would choose to refuse this. But then, that is the beauty of art/films.
It can be what you want it to be.
Unlike science. Unlike justice. 

When I walked into a theater yesterday to watch Sully, I told myself that I would walk out of the film with loads of notes on the framing of scenes, the editing rhythm, the use of score, the use of expository dialogues and such. But as is always the case with really good films, I walked out of the theater with a satisfied heart, a few lingering thoughts on life and no notes.
At times, I feel that the difference between a good filmmaker and a great filmmaker is that a good filmmaker teaches you consciously while a great filmmaker taps into the subconscious. 
Mr. Good delivers knowledge. Mr. Great delivers wisdom.

****

In the film, Sully, the pilot, after his successful landing of the aircraft on the Hudson river, tries playing back the same geese-hitting, engine-failing, plane-diving scenario with disastrous endings. 
It is more of a 'What-if' game. 
Initially, I wondered why a person would want to do this. Why sweat over a possible failure when success has already been achieved?
Immediately, I recalled a recent accident. A rainy night, I had gone pillion riding on my friend's motorbike, and the speeding tyres notwithstanding the wet surface of the road, the motorbike had skidded out of control flinging my friend and me on the road as harmlessly as possible.
But the entire week after the accident, I had played it over and over in my head,
disturbingly anticipating the result if a lorry had come speeding behind our motorbike.
I needn't have tried predicting what had already passed.
Anticipating the past is as potential a candidate for misery as anticipating the future is. And the worst part - for the former, you cannot even take action.

****

After the aircraft is landed on the Hudson river, after the river water starts seeping inside, after the exits of the aircraft are opened and the lifeboats are inflated, after all the passengers have jumped on to the lifeboats, comes a beautiful moment - Sully goes back and forth in the water filled aircraft calling out for anyone who has stayed behind. 
Even after being dropped on the shore by a rescue boat, Sully is not able to breathe happiness. An officer asks him how he is and Sully says, "I will answer that question after I have counted 155". 155 - the total count of people who had traveled on the aircraft. 
In a later scene in a hospital - one of my most favorite scenes in the film - an officer visits Sully to let him know that every passenger and crew member has been rescued and is safe. Learning the news, Tom Hanks expresses an emotion which is a beautiful blend of mild triumph and relief. His lips widen and his eyes show signs of becoming watery but he does not cry. The beautiful emotion of a man who has done his job well.

Watching this sequence of events taught me more about being a leader than any other book on leadership could have.
Also, I was reminded of my previous project at office. During the project, our team leader would always be the last person in the team to leave office. There would be days when one of us would have screwed up a task and would have to re-do it staying behind the entire night and on such occasions, when our leader could have easily left home saying "Keep me updated on the progress and give me a call if you face any problems", he would choose not to leave and would pull up a chair and sit besides us. Even if you hated the task, even if you hated the client, he made you want to work for him.
A true leader is capable of that. Of making the team want to do things just for the sake of the leader. And it is always only because the leader has done so much more for the team.

****

In the ending scene of the film, one of the members of the National Transportation Safety Board asks the co-pilot if he would have done anything differently. Jeff, the co-pilot (played superbly by Aaron Eckhart) replies smiling, "I would have done it in July".
Classic Eastwoodian use of laconic wit.
Apart from putting up a wide smile on my face, it poured a few drops of oil to a constantly burning thought. 
Life is not as serious and sophisticated as it is cracked up to be. Complications creep in only based on our reactions to the happenings. 

21 Sept 2016

You are my random variable

For quite some time now
When, at office, I have been asked to solve problems
When I have been asked to battle it out with equations
I have started feeling happy
Not because I have started liking Math
You know my Math skills better than my Math teachers
You know how I fumble while counting your eyelashes
I start counting them from either corner and halfway,
I lose my way and end up kissing the eyelids
So its not the Math
Its just that, for quite some time now
You have become my random variable.

On days I am asked to help with programming
When my screen can get egotistical with so many 'i's
When the algorithm can represent literature with an array of semicolons
I look at my R Studio or SQL Server with a naughty smile
Shall I assign my factor to your set of sparkling teeth?
Shall I group by your moles?
Shall I order by your favorite colors?
Your right ear is my lead, your left, my lag
I try avoiding loops as much as possible
But when I have to use them, my 'i' becomes you.

Some occasions demand data visualizations from me
As markers tumble, red, blue and black
As numerous graphs adorn the whiteboards
Like the white rangolis adorning the December doorsteps of a Brahmin agrahara
I start understanding the patterns
There exists a normally distributed graph
Happiness as its y-axis and the people in my life as its x-axis
Who do you think can be the mean, if not for you?
On happier days, the graphs get interesting
The bar graph shows me your slender fingers
The colorful pie chart, your starry eye
The bubble chart shows the purpose of your pimples
And the line chart on the rise
Captures my heartbeat as our lips hug each other..
Let us plot a graph for ourselves
I will be the x-axis and you be my y
As for the legend, let it not be a list, let it be this poem.


17 Sept 2016

Man-made fear

As my work-city burned in hatred, as my birth-city watched in horror, as a specific-language-speaking community was forced to imprison itself indoors, as the moon hid itself behind clouds of smoke, as I sat alone at my apartment with the clock ticking 1 AM with all the lights turned off and all the windows shut, a sad truth marched towards its dawn.
The ghostly, long-drawn howls of the stray dogs were more heart-warming than the sounds of approaching vehicles and human voices.

6 Sept 2016

The wait for love

The walls of the house still smelled of new paint
The wait to smell of the sweat of intense love had been in vain..

The mirror stood brand new, reflectionless
The wait to conjure up images of beauty, stripped to the truest, had been in vain..

The bed rested calmly, the pillows solemnly
The wait to go naked witnessing wild passion, 
Not just during the moonlit hours, had been in vain..

The kitchenware lay assembled on the shelves quietly
The wait to swallow salt, sugar and secret kisses had been in vain..

The geyser hung hopelessly
The wait to be ashamed by the more powerful steam of united bodies had been in vain..

The tube lights and the bulbs vanished into the walls, dejected
The wait to remain constantly switched off with darkness preferred over light,
In search of meaning, in search of life, had been in vain..

The only survivor of all such pain had been the new car
It had waited to be fueled by reckless romance
And it had been, by the newly married couple
The only sad part of its story - It currently lay crushed under the wheels of a container lorry...