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Showing posts with label Subi Samuel. Show all posts

IT IS FOREVER - SUSHANT SINGH RAJPUT



When two human beings cross paths and something inside them instantly clicks, it is less to do with chance, and all to do with connection. Sometimes we feel we need to know someone, like to know them to know them, and that is where common knowledge fails us with regards what we have been taught all our lives: that it is slightly difficult to form a bond betwixt strangers.

Call it a gift, or a curse, but people might think of people like Sushant and me insane when we tell you that we can evaluate, at times, even from a mere look or the written word, the intelligence and intention of the person interacting with us.




I am certain that you, the reader, has dawned upon this truth that we might know someone, and yet not know anything about them, merely because what they show us about them is what they want us to know of them, and at times you have connected more with somebody just in a fleeting moment and that euphoria stays with you for the longest, and in some cases for the rest of your existence. Similarly, when it comes to words or visuals, I quite believe that they resonate their own essence and character that can seldom fool people into believing otherwise. 

Let me give you a tiny example. I had a friend who was erudite and awfully popular as an actor. We enjoyed a warm camaraderie for close to 5 years, up until I began following him on Twitter. Once I did, my entire idea of who he ‘actually’ was seemed completely changed. Perhaps I might have read him wrong to begin with. I might have been blinded by the bliss of friendship, and a million other reasons could be conjectured for the change of my perception about him, but the reality is, particularly in our likes and dislikes, and in our idea of humour, and what we say, we give away far more of us than we realise. That ‘I cannot be anyone on the outside that I am not on the inside’ is even more so reminiscent via our digital imprints. And this is where, methinks that technology is imperative in understanding a person’s subconscious. It is quite the mirror to our unrestrained self. 

So when I see someone, or something that they have done that touches the core in me, I usually reach out to make a note of it for my own pleasure. I also find how nature has this rather distinctive approach of creating situations where people of similar interests can coalesce together, be it in person, or through thoughtful communication over the Internet. This aspect of life is what I find thoroughly fascinating. 

Let me offer you another example. My elder brother Subi is a celebrated lens-man, he spoke about the strength of the ‘hash tag’ sometime ago. Being a classist, I had refrained myself from biting into the hash tag apple, until one day, I decided, quite on a whim, that I would click on the first name that would show up with the hash tag that I was using for the first time on Instagram. And when I clicked on the picture of the first person, it turned out to be the great great grandson of Prithvi Raj Kapoor, who incidentally was close friends with my maternal grandfather. I began to browse through the young man’s photographs and discovered they did something to me. If in one frame he had the representation of a tumbler of coffee with a straw, in another he had shot traditional bangles in their splendour and vivacity. His pictures, though real, still contained in them such mysterious artistry. They were representations of what he saw inside his head when his eyes set eyes upon the subject, and it was as if we, each of us, were seeing him and his world through his eyes, and akin to our fingerprints, to each of us, this experience was unique. So these chance encounters, serendipitous too, yield such enlightening experiences and brought somebody whom our forefathers had spent enough time with but we had lost touch with as a new generation. I got in touch with the young man and it was a delight to go back to familiar bloodlines, decades later, and via what we saw and liked, even without knowing who it was to begin with until one delved deeper to discover the identity of the person. So like I said, words, images, and one’s inner self gives itself away, and those who have the gift to pick those nuances up can see more than what meets the eyes.  




To conclude, let me return to my little brother Sushant where I am sharing with all of you two handwritten verses from my little brother. Interestingly, it was his birthday on the 21st of this month, and after a period of nearly ten years I wrote him a note by hand. I could have handed him the keys to my Aston Martin, but I knew that material possessions did nothing to him. Also, what is mine is his, so there was no reason to give him anything in particular to make a point. I scratched my head and pulled out an ordinary white sheet of paper and began writing on it what seemed to flow out of my head without any hold. The lack of practise had rendered my alphabets a bit awry I noticed, but it was also a metaphoric representation of life I thought. We are not what we were a second ago, so for me to have assumed that something that I haven’t practised for close to a decade than the usual signing of cheques or random documents, was going to be like what it once was, was inaccurate. A friend looked at it and exclaimed – What? A hand written note! Hope the receiver does not think you boring and old-fashioned! I smiled inwardly at my friend, while her words only strengthened the fact in me that possibly I had not sent it to anyone else for these many years simply because nobody else would have cared for it the way my Sushant would have valued it.




It is never too late to slow down from this fast-paced, ‘I want to be the cool know-it-all’ façade. And my humble request is to take a moment and think about what my little brother has said in the poetries I am sharing. Also respect every moment. As cliché as it is, what we have now would never come back to us again, and wail and weep as much as we want to later, it would be gone forever.

Live now!

Happy Republic Day!





OM PURI – Farewell, my dear man!



A large number of my friends knew Om Puri rather well. They drank with him. They argued with him. They loved him, and they also hated him. He was such a regular fixture of greatness in my head that I always put off getting to meet him. “Another time when I visit Bombay,” I would tell myself, and not being an active slice of any party circuit, there was little chance I would run into him socially. Sadly, today ‘another time’ has been robbed from me forever.

Om had done some marvellous movies. He had shaped cinema with his own uniqueness, but what stayed in me of him was The Hundred Foot Journey made in two thousand and fourteen. It had my mate Manish Dayal playing the lead with the gorgeous Charlotte Le Bon and Helen Mirren sharing screen space with Om. The motion picture was produced by Steven Spielberg and Oprah Winfrey, and created on the novel of the same name that had been written by a dear friend Richard C Morais. A touching story, and an equally arresting film adaptation, had stirred me beyond words. While I would carry this misgiving that I could not meet him, I am glad, however, that he left behind a picture with those I knew and admired, to last us a lifetime to watch and study from. 


Om was many things to many people. He would often land himself in deep trouble for speaking his mind, and that was simply because he was from the old school of thought who analysed and applied their mind than merely nodding one’s head and agreeing to whatever was being said and happening around. He was a socially responsible human being who fiercely took sides. Much before it became fashionable for Indian actors to tread foot onto international shores, Om had been there, and done what many others were only dreaming to do. He was accepting of the fact about how he had no looks of a superstar, and yet how delighted he was that he had lived his life, and achieved out of it what he had wanted to achieve, despite its challenges. He abhorred the pseudo from what I have heard of him from the people I know who were close to him, and he did not depend on stylists, or hired public relations personnel to draw up and reflect a certain image of him – his elementary personality sparkled far beyond such empty embellishments. 

Sensibility and balance seem to be playing hide and seek with mankind. We were bereaved with the loss of Umberto Eco last year. We had barely recovered, when; most recently, we suffered the loss of John Berger, who incidentally was friends with my dear friend Sirish Rao. For some peculiar reason it appears like time is closing in on us with the passing away of these humble but mighty minds. To find such eloquence in the new crop, on whom one can lean on, for wisdom than mere theatrics that the business commands, is like finding needles in a haystack.

This reflection of mine cannot be complete unless I share with you what Manish recollected about Om. He said:



“Right before I took this picture we were rehearsing a scene that we were about to start shooting. He whacked my script down to the floor and shouted, “Don’t do it like that! Surprise them. Do it the wrong way, damn it!” His wisdom could shake a room. He was one of my closest friend’s, and throughout our time working together, he taught me more dirty jokes and pranks than I’d need to last two lifetimes. My thoughts about Omji right now are indescribable. I love you, Omji. Your talent and your prolific work as an actor will forever resonate with the world. You are a master at your craft, a legend and a mentor who taught me more about acting and life than any classroom ever did. Rest In Peace, Papa.”  

I was pleased that my friend and mentor Ravi K Chandran had worked with Om, I am also happy that my elder brother Subi Samuel had shot several film publicity projects with him, but I am unhappy that my bachcha Adi (Aditya Seal), who is a spectacular actor himself, did not get the opportunity to work with someone who was truly a man who gave hope to those who did not have faces like what sculptors would have chiselled out of their slabs of marble, and yet took the world by storm by the mere strength of genius alone. Uncannily, it was only two days ago that I was telling Adi to watch The Hundred Foot Journey, and I was hoping sincerely that I would meet Om with him when I was to be in Bombay next. The perfect proof of two things, do not put until tomorrow what you can do today, and man proposes, god disposes.

Yes, life’s just that much, but the consolation is that Om got to do what he loved to do in what little time he had of it on earth. And so should each one of us too.  

Wherever you are, Om, hope you are in a happy space.



Each Of These Make Me Who I Am - LOVE YOU ALL









































Ali Zafar and Subi Samuel on Parental Protection by Lladró




Men are usually blamed of being a bit stingy in expressing their affection towards their children. Truth is that a father loves his child as much as the mother, only that majority of them are imprisoned to the ways of the world that dictates that the male stays stoic at all times. Given such circumstances, a father’s love epitomises itself quite clearly in one word – protection. And it is for this precise reason that I fell in love with the sculpture Parental Protection by Lladró: it most handsomely depicts the vulnerable side of a man sans drama.

When I think of the men who are vulnerable around me, my mind instantly draws two men from the assortment of my mental faculties – Ali Zafar and Subi Samuel. Both are not your ‘typical’ men entrapped within the clichés of the world. They are publicly expressive of their love to their children, as they are utterly devoted to them.

Ali knows that your children need your presence more than your presents, just as Subi knows that the trouble with learning to parent on the job is that your child is the teacher.

Ali knows that the two lasting gifts he can give his children are stronger roots and freer wings, just as Subi knows that no matter how grown up they become, or how different, he would always remain their preferred toy.

Their children are their coveted sculptures, the finest representation of parental protection in real time, in flesh and blood, in concrete and creative form.





Ali with his son Azaan