An Introduction To Babies

This blog, as many others that follow, are being typed on a tiny computer, when I have a few minutes to spare from my sleep deprived life!  Therefore, please excuse my grammatical errors and typos.

I grew up with books, bicycles, swimming pools, ovens, dogs and rocky stretches of isolation.  Therefore I was completely unprepared  for this new event that occurred in my life - a few weeks ago when my baby boy was handed to me after surgery in hospital.

This tiny creature, swaddled in an old soft sari of my mother's, lying inert and helpless before exploding into a mass of loud cries.  What was I supposed to do with it?

First things first.  I was to begin to think of it as "him" and not "it".  The next thing, of course, was to feed him.  That thought got me on my feet a couple of hours  after surgery and as I sat up in bed, a nurse placed him in the crook of my arm and showed me how to feed him.  This process continued, every couple of hours, all the time that I was in hospital.  My main concern then was how I would ever manage to lift him and place him on my arm for a feed.  Seems laughable now, but back then it drove me to tears.  As did most innocuous things for a new mom.

The next thing, of course, was  to change him- but how?  My husband and I poured over the diaper packet instructions (which don't say anything  about how to get the thing under him in the first place).    A crying bundle with a wet diaper is a tricky object.

"Lift up his legs," a well meaning passer by said.  That's the other thing about having babies - people are always freely venting their views on how small or thin or undernourished or cranky your kid is and throwing oodles of advice at you, which is hard to completely ignore.  Only a small fraction is useful, and, fortunately, this bit of advice came in that category.  But one really must follow one's instincts when the books and doctors (and passers by!) fail, for normal everyday matters.  That is what I am learning, the hard way.

Lift up his legs- but how?  A nurse came and showed us. By unceremoniously hauling his bottom off the table.  I wondered if his little body would take all that.  But I learnt that babies are flexible and strong.  My heart would almost break when I saw various people thumping the life out of him (or so I thought) in order to elicit  a burp.  But he survived.

And so have I.  And with these three fundamental things in place, I managed for a few days till new, other challenging things had to be dealt with.

Farewell, Farooq

Farooq Sheikh- the gentle, versatile actor died recently of a heart attack while holidaying in Dubai.  I did not pay too much attention to the news when it broke, last December.  I had seen his films in the late seventies and eighties- and enjoyed them tremendously.  He had worked with top directors of Indian parallel cinema at the time - Satyajit Ray, Hrishikesh Mukherjee, Muzaffar Ali, MS Sathyu and others.  I always assumed that the impression these films left on me was largely because I was then at an impressionable age myself!  Seeing Farooq in recent years, playing minor roles in Bollywood films - overweight, with an unflattering hairstyle and glasses, I felt he had just let himself go.  Theatre lovers thought otherwise; his performance with Shabana Azmi in the two-character play 'Tumhari Amrita' ran for 21 years and people still wanted more.

A few days ago, quite by chance, I happened to watch an old movie of his and was startled by the quality of his performance.  I glimpsed a naturalness that made me feel that he was not acting at all, that in reality he was the character.  After watching some snippets of his other films on the computer, I realized that this aspect of his performance was his style and strength - and perhaps something that led him away from mainstream cinema towards more complex, subtle or unusual films.  At a time when angry young men and raucous songs filled gigantic screens, Farooq Sheikh was content to express different kinds of qualities - gentleness mingled with firmness, an innocent vulnerability and a sensitivity that could be effortlessly tuned to comedy or pathos.  He is remembered most for some of his romances and comedies with his natural on-screen partner Deepti Naval, who could match him, expression for expression and mood for mood.  He was also known for some of his television shows including 'Ji Mantriji', a Hindi version of the British show 'Yes Minister'.

Farooq Sheikh was born into a wealthy family of zamindars and trained in law, so he could join his father, a successful lawyer in Mumbai.  But his heart was in acting and, as it turned out, he never practiced law.  He had no formal training in theatre or films and there was no particular style that he emulated.  Yet he left a mark on Indian films and theatre through the handful of films and the unforgettable characters that he brought to life.  They will never die.

Off screen, he displayed a gentle but spontaneous sense of humour.  His speech was impeccable - a mix of Hindi and Urdu that is not often heard in Mumbai.  He will also be remembered for his unassuming nature, his generosity and philanthropy- much of which came to light only after his death.

Unfortunately there are almost no trailers or snippets of his films available online right now (full length films are available) and none with English subtitles.  I am attaching a link to one of his songs with Deepti Naval, from the film Saath Saath ('Together').  It is a song they sing about how beautiful their house is.  Should anyone wish to see the house, they first need to borrow the young couple's vision (in order to truly appreciate it).

Here one sees how two skilled and expressive actors can elevate a pleasant sounding song to something more meaningful and heartwarming.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOMjKWrfI0U 

Now We Are Two : Thoughts On Pregnancy

As I dwell on my advanced state of pregnancy, I wonder whether to put down my thoughts in a blog.  The pregnancy began suddenly, seemed to stretch on forever and now I wonder where all the time has gone.  I have decided to write a little, just in case it is of help to anyone, especially in India.

"Any time now," the older women around me say.  But I think the baby will wait for a few weeks, if not days, to emerge.  Let us see.

Pregnancy is very much a social affair in India, as perhaps it is everywhere.  Given our gigantic (and ever increasing) population, I am always amazed that every new baby or baby-to-be causes such a flutter.  Evolution, I suppose.  "Give me dogs any day," I used to think while watching people fussing over babies (and in some recess of my heart, perhaps I still do).

I grew up with dogs.  Large numbers of them, bounding in and out of our house and garden.  They were my favourite companions and I spent many hours with them - seeing them being born (our dogs were comfortable with my presence at all times), helping them grow up - bathing them as they wriggled and flew from my arms, teaching them how to climb up and descend stairs, playing "catch the lizard" with them and helping them through teething.  Everything was effortless and executed without any fuss or bother.  Bliss, in retrospect.  Not so with humans.  The noise begins as soon as those pregnancy strips turn positive, and it apparently never really ends.  All of it is not unwelcome of course.  I am moved by how many people have come up to me and said they were praying for my well being, in their own ways.  Many offers of baby sitters have arrived, surprisingly the most fervent ones coming from elderly retired professors, who I thought had only science on their minds.  Babies certainly bring out a different aspect of people, a part one never really perceives as an adult.  This I am learning everyday.

As Indian cities change, lifestyles (including issues like pregnancy) change accordingly.  A mix of old and new is found and one must tread with care.  Active birthing techniques and complete empowerment of women are still to come, but many more facilities and options are offered to pregnant women in big cities.  I ask for very little at this stage; just for minimal medical intervention intelligently applied and for the presence of my husband during crucial periods, and the Delhi doctor seems to share my views on these aspects.  It has been a struggle though, to keep the medical intervention to the minimum.  My doctors in Bangalore were very concerned and believed in taking steps beforehand to prevent future potential problems; they would therefore prescribe supplements by the dozen.  Supplements are not as innocuous as they are made out to be.  Any chemical in large regular doses is bound to affect metabolism.  And some of the supplements - hormones or hormone triggers, affect the endocrine system as well, causing large changes with very small doses.  Fortunately, I did not take any of these and none of the dire predictions have come true.  One important aspect to keep in mind during pregnancy is that each person is different - the range of "normal values" is huge while measuring levels of blood parameters, minerals, vitamins (and certain hormones as well).  What's normal for one woman may never be seen in another.  This is where the internet is very helpful as technical sites provide lists of acceptable ranges of numbers churned out through blood tests.  Over-interpretation of data (especially with inadequate knowledge of metabolism) is a common problem encountered with doctors today.

Other programmes are also on offer - pregnancy classes, exercises and, in India, things are often marketed as "packages" - one free scan, one free consultation, discount on room tariff etc. with pregnancy classes.  It took me a while to decide whether or not to attend these classes.  I asked a few people for input, called up some of the teachers and finally asked myself what exactly I wanted to achieve.  Many people like the feeling of bonding and interacting with others who are in the same state; I had no such desire.  Besides, I hate commuting- dealing with traffic jams, potholes and pollution - things that are common in Indian cities.  These days, due to excessive or poor air conditioning, lifestyle changes and other factors, I find some fraction of sick people everywhere I go, at all times.  For this reason as well, I wanted to avoid being indoors with large groups on a regular basis.  (This also meant a drastic reduction in the number of cultural events I could attend but there are many other ways to occupy oneself).  Of course, the main deciding factor was my existing lifestyle - I was practicing Yoga everyday and also going for long walks.  I did not think I needed too much more, except for some inputs on the process of labour and birthing, which were explained in a wonderful fashion to me by my acupuncturist friend, Nora.  My Yoga teacher, who continues to check on my health from afar, told me right in the beginning that he had no special instructions for me.  I had read the Yoga books that dealt with pregnancy (and there is very little literature on this) and had several questions, which he answered.  But he stressed that it is a very individual experience and I would know what to do and how to proceed, from within.  He also stressed that I should not compare myself to any of the models in the pregnancy books (a very useful tip)!  I would not recommend this for beginners but for advanced Yoga students who have had individual training, I think it is a good way to proceed.  I am still comfortably able to do an hour of stretching and I have not had any backaches or major strains.

The other aspect to think about was clothes!  I was surprised at how little was on offer for maternity wear (especially for winter), given the large numbers of women who are pregnant each year.  New shops have opened recently; they have some kinds of clothes to offer but nothing elegant or particularly well designed.  The materials are sometimes not very comfortable and are often synthetic or gaudy - this for a country overflowing with textiles, craftsmen and designers, is shocking.  Mothercare (an international outlet) has opened and this seems to be where many pregnant women shop.  It is relatively better but completely western in concept.  Almost everything has been made in China for the U.K. and marketed in India.  Good for track bottoms, jeans and western baby things.  Not a chance of finding Indian cottons, loose kurtas or any local products.  Oh well, could be worse.  The one problem I immediately find is that the sizes and shapes seem a little off.  Certainly my baby (on the ultrasound screen) looks too tiny to immediately be able to wear the 0 month size.  This is where family helps.  One of my sisters in law has taken me firmly in hand and ignored all arguments about waiting till I am sure my baby will actually emerge before taking action.  She marches in with a tailor, who takes my bundle of old clothes and rapidly converts them into little vests and nappies in three sizes.  Exquisitely soft cotton, having been washed hundreds of times over is now ready to cover the baby in different ways.  Not just as clothes, but sheets to sleep in, sheets for changing, sheets for covering.  My mother's softest saree - an old fine Bengal cotton is converted into a little wrapping cover for when the baby is just delivered.  The belief is that the blessings of the ancestors pass on to the baby.  More involved than Mothercare but more personal as well.  In between trips to see her terminally ill mother, she knits tiny baby vests that will be perfect for small Indian babies.  She has already ordered sheets, quilts and bigger clothes which will be stitched and hand embroidered as our clothes were when we were young (my grandmother set up a small organization where women learned to embroider and sew in order to be financially independent).  These are of course some perks of being in India.

As for myself, I do find a few clothes but I am living in track pants with hand me down pregnancy sweaters.  Women - don't fall for that "Wear your husband's sweaters," line.  In the third trimester, maternity clothing becomes essential especially in the winter.  Men's sweaters end up dangling over your arms, exposing half your chest (with those V-necks) and so on.  Sarees are a relatively elegant option but the accessories need to be re-stitched each month for comfort.  I call the tailor home again, not for maternity clothes this time but for nursing clothes.  Yes!  In a few weeks, all these clothes will be of no use and an entirely new set will be required.  Do keep this in mind while planning your wardrobe.  Shoes - problematic again.  I visit malls, which have rows of branded shoe shops lined up but find nothing other than sports shoes which fit.  These are good for walking but tying and untying laces gets trickier over time.  The slip-ons available are tight fitting or hideously coloured and, of course, fancily priced.  I return empty handed, visit a small neighbourhood shop.  I explain all my requirements to the owner and within a few minutes I have a set of comfortable shoes and non skid slippers at one third the price I would have paid in the malls.  My shoes are a wonderful shade of purple (my first ever purple shoes!) which, strangely enough, go well with my track pants and my slippers are candy striped, in white and pink.  These are a local brand which apparently are very popular with the hill people; they are soft and easy to walk in.

Food!  Keep in mind that the average Indian woman has a much lower hemoglobin level as compared to her Western counterpart.  Don't be alarmed at your blood reports but do try and keep the levels up.  Many people give many suggestions.  I am just taking the middle path - having as much iron in tablet form as I can (I can only take it on alternate days), drinking my own recipe of juice - carrot, beetroot, pomegranate and a squeeze of lemon or fermented black carrot juice, taking a small bit of meat occasionally (I don't feel like eating too much meat) and having fresh greens, salads, soaked prunes etc.  Some of these iron building foods are cooked by my aunt and sent to me in little boxes every week.  Indian food can aggravate or soothe nausea, as I discovered after talking to many people. Fortunately I did not suffer much from morning sickness but people who do can barely enter the kitchen.  I find that some of the spices - cloves, black cardamom and cinnamon are quite soothing especially when used in sweet and savoury stews.

Well, I think this covers most of the basic aspects that I have been dealing with these last few months.  I don't know if my baby agrees with me.  It began as a tiny part of me but now there are definitely two of us.  I can see its outline as it moves, pushing my abdomen outwards to an impossible extent.  It is wide awake when I want to sleep and quietens down as soon as I begin my morning Yoga.  It kicks when I indulge in desserts and stays silent when I eat my salads.  Never seems to mind the potholes and speed breakers, which I absolutely detest.  Perhaps it takes after my husband...  

A Time For Eating

Delhi's grey damp days do not deter me from walking - the air is fresh and icy and the damp gets into every crevice it can find.  But at the end of long walks I come home and help myself to a little bit (or more!) of the wonderful food that winter brings.  Everything is so plentiful right now that I can't imagine that it will all be gone in just another month, when spring brings its own special things.

Right now we are eating carrots in all forms - deep red, sweet winter carrots in salads as we bask in the occasional sunshine (along with this we have white or red radishes, which are particularly mild at this time).  Carrots with peas, carrots with methi (fenugreek greens), carrot juice and delicious carrot halwa (which is never the same when made with regular orange carrots - in fact it is never really made at any other time of the year except in restaurants).  Black carrots, fermented to make a unique winter drink - kanji- which gets its zing from the fermentation and a heady flavour from the carrots to which rock salt and pounded mustard have been added.  It begins as a deep blue liquid and gradually turns deep pink as the acid builds up.  Beetroots, which are also plentiful now, are sometimes used when black carrots are not available.

Winter is always good for greens - an endless variety that can be stir fried (on their own or with potatoes or paneer), kneaded into a dough and used to make rotis.  They can also be made into pullaos with rice, added to lentils and more.  Spinach, fenugreek greens and others which have no English names that I know of.  The mustard greens are now losing their sweetness as they mature and flower; the seeds will later be crushed for oil.  We have the last of them this week, cooked thick and served with thin flat corn bread (makki ki roti), lots of chopped ginger and butter on the side.  A hearty meal.

Peas are especially sweet and tender and are thrown into almost any conceivable dish -  pullaos, curries, dry vegetables. stuffings for breads that are pan fried or deep fried.  My favourite is mattar paneer - peas and cubes of paneer (a kind of homemade lemony cheese) in a light curry.  They also go well with mushrooms, which are plentiful in the winter.

This is also the season for palm jaggery (an eastern Indian specialty) that is freshly tapped and concentrated by boiling the juices.  This imparts a distinct dark colour and delicious flavour to sweets.  I just like to scrape off a little bit and add it to homemade curd.  Apart from this, many other sweets are made, ostensibly to keep off the winter cold - piping hot halwas oozing with ghee (clarified butter) and nuts, thick milky concoctions with saffron, pista or almonds sprinkled in, sheets of peanuts or sesame seeds bound together with sugar or jaggery syrup - crisp and crackly or soft and flaky depending on the consistency.  And when one is tired of all the sweetness, there are always the savouries - roasted nuts, vegetables dipped in gram flour and fried, little salted and spiced snacks made with different kinds of flour and fried till they are crisp and samosas stuffed with potatoes and peas - to be consumed with hot milky tea and much gossip on the side!  Perfect for those dark winter evenings.

A Year Of Change

I'd like to begin by wishing my readers and friends a wonderful new year.  Annus mirabilis, a year of wonders, miracles and more.  I'd like to thank you for continuing to read my blog, considerably infrequent though it has been these last few months.  I have been taken over by a flurry of events at home and hospitals and have been unable to do justice to my blogging.  This situation may continue for a few months but I hope the blog will eventually pick up again, at least I will try (one of this year's resolutions!).

One of the reasons the blog is going so slow, as I explained to a friend, is that my life is currently submerged in trivia.  Not that I mind but I wouldn't want to inflict it on my readers.  "Write about the pursuit of trivia then", he suggested.  I turned this over in my mind for several weeks but it did not seem satisfactory enough.  This week, however, I realized I had to make some kind of change in the contents because my activities are more restricted for the time being.  To keep the blog going, I realized, that I would have to shift from fact based blogs to thought based ones (or a mix of the two).  This may test my writing skills and your patience, but let's see how it goes!

I am in Delhi for a few months.  It is supposedly a cold winter, a few degrees lower than usual.  The smog descended, as it does, but only for a few days.  Now it is sunny; winter holidays are still on, and parks are full of families and the ubiquitous couples.

I am staying in our family house, a mix of old and new structures.  I am staying in the room that my grandmother used to occupy, the oldest part of the house.  It looks onto a large verandah in front and a sunny strip of balcony behind.  A charming room, but there has been much work to do to make it comfortable and practical for me.  Wires are always a problem; we have been fixing the old wires in the bathroom to get enough light, working out a way of fixing night lights, reading lights and more.  The telephones in the room screech and crackle - more wires to be taped and fixed!  The room is quite cold in the winter; fortunately we now have new heaters which are perfect for gently heating rooms without drying the air out.

The problem with too comfortable a room temperature is- mosquitoes!  Yes!  Those days of mosquito-free winters is long gone.  Once the digging for the commonwealth games began (a couple of years ago I think), mosquitoes have filled this city, never to leave.  Now they linger outside and rush in wherever they find a warm spot.  Fortunately there are no epidemics these days but I know it is just a matter of time especially as the weather warms up.  Normally we use chemical repellents but I am trying to find natural means of keeping them out.  I begin with the chemicals, then clear the room of the sprayed air.  End up by lighting large sticks of citronella incense.  This works, but only some of the time.  Often, one or two remain - and one is enough to cause havoc at night.  Next week I plan to buy a local mix of camphor and herbs - the Bengali dhuno (which is used to create a dramatic smoky effect in the pujas) - and smoke the rooms every evening, the way it was done in our grandparents' time.

I spend time opening out drawers filled with old memories - many papers and scribbled notes lying forgotten for decades, which are no longer required.  Make a separate space for photographs, which are fluttering everywhere and spilling out of envelopes.  Air out the cupboards, line them with fresh paper and begin to unpack and stop living out of suitcases.  Make some changes so I can easily take care of my food requirements - buy a small juicer and some microwavable crockery (in this process I end up buying a porcelain dinner set for six - utterly useless for now but I hope to use it sometime in the unpredictable future.  Ah! the perils of shopping!).

The house is filled with workers as well - we are installing some new soundproof windows.  Noise levels in Delhi have risen tremendously and one can no longer open any window that faces the main road.  Fortunately one side of our house faces a park, but this year planes seem to fly overhead periodically.  These are loud but not too frequent.  Certainly nothing compared to the explosions from trucks when their tyres burst in front of our house - like bombs!

Well, we have been working away, my father and I, and I think in a week's time everything should be dealt with.  It's a pleasant way to begin the year - by scrubbing clean unwanted remnants of the past, mending and buttressing existing structures - and waiting for the new to step in!

Games Doctors Play

The last few months I have been seeing a few doctors and over this period, I have come to recognize certain patterns of interaction that are quite common.  These are a sort of play based on personality and training; sometimes these are innocuous but at times they may be irritating or even deleterious.  It's good to watch out for these and not get sucked into playing along.  My golden rule is never to rush into any drastic or invasive treatment that doctors recommend (even if they say seconds are precious).  It's always good to excuse oneself for at least a few minutes (if not for longer), talk to reliable friends or other doctors before being pushed into any action.  As for the things we have to deal with (other than our medical conditions), here's a short list:

1) Brick in the wall: (taken from Pink Floyd's song of the same name) - 'All in all, you're just another brick in the wall'.  Most likely you're being used to ramp up the hospital rather than the other way round.  But this feeling of not being treated as a person begins right from when you step into the hospital.  Don't take it personally!

2) P2C2E: (from Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories) : Process Too Complicated To Explain.  Be wary when you hear such things- doctors will often fling them at you.  Nothing is too complicated to explain (at least not in biology), also be wary of oversimplification and inane analogies - there are few analogies that work for the human body and mind (as for the spirit- don't worry about it, doctors will not even mention it!).  Doctors who stick to facts (especially backed with proper medical references) are few to come by but worth paying attention to.

3) Carrot and Stick:  Very common - used sequentially or in random combinations, to push you into opting for something you may not be comfortable doing at that moment.  This is exacerbated by waves of urgency that the doctor suddenly begins emitting or sometimes a hypnotic glare.  A red herring such as a warm, sympathetic smile may sometimes be thrown in.  Watch the doctor for all these signs and watch yourself for inner reactions!

4) No Option: A very common game.  Doctors don't often use these exact words though last week I met one who did.  I promptly interrupted him and said, "There is always an option."  And there is!  The final decision (whether to begin a treatment and, often, even when you want to quit) is yours "against medical advice", though it may be.  Don't be afraid of these words or of taking your time to figure out whether you want to follow the doctor's advice.  Of course, every option has a consequence and you must be willing to face it.  But even if there is only one course of treatment possible in modern medicine, you may still want time to decide which doctor and hospital you want to go to and may want a second opinion.  So, even for sub-choices (once the main decision is taken), options may need to be explored.

5) Trust Me:  Trust cannot be induced, it emerges and flows freely when conditions for it are conducive.  I wouldn't trust a doctor unless I (or someone I rely upon) feel they are worthy of it.  I prefer to trust medical literature and analyses.  If you have reasonable cause for doubt, it's good to get a second opinion or talk the matter through with someone who is familiar with the subject and preferably with recent medical research or guidelines.  I also wouldn't trust internet chat sites though I use the internet a lot to collect technical medical literature.  There are certain official (and relatively unbiased) sites where things are explained in simple terms (medline plus is a good one for example).  It's good to read a little especially when drastic new therapies are being prescribed.  It's also useful to keep in mind that very rarely are those shiny new drugs and methods that doctors dangle before us, as attractive as described.  Medicine can do a lot of good but sometimes the side effects, the length (and expense) of treatment and its success rate are not explained as clearly as one desires.

6) The Three R's R'nt So Important: Trust your school teacher in this respect- they sure R!  Make sure you can read (and understand) the prescriptions.  Doctors also sometimes give the same dosage of medicine to one and all irrespective of their physical condition (body mass, age, other medical complaints they have) but this is not so common and one deals with it if terrible reactions occur.  Sometimes doctors mistakenly write milligram (mg) for microgram (mcg) - it's happened to me twice!  But chemists (or pharmacists) are quite used to this and allow for it while dispensing medicines.  But doctors may still have a few tricks up their sleeve that we may not know of.  A doctor told me last week, "You biologists think you know everything.  But one plus one is not two in medicine, like it is in biology!!!"

7) Next Patient!:  Don't be pushed by the 'Next patient' war cry that doctors often use - take your time to read and understand (and ask if you have any questions).  Also make sure you have enough time to put back all the papers and reports that are strewn over the doctor's table, into a folder, before you leave their office.  Good luck!

Finally, here are a few quotes on medicine, healing and curing, written by exceptional doctors, that I like:

"In a community like ours we have put all the emphasis on cure.  We want to be professionals: heal the sick....  But the temptation is that we use our expertise to keep a safe distance from that which really matters and forget that in the long run cure without care is more harmful than helpful.
   When we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.  The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares."     (Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude)

"My advice is to live YOUR life.  Allow that wonderful inner intelligence to speak through you.  The blueprint for you to be your authentic self lies within.  In some mystical way the microscopic egg that grew to be you had the program for your physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual development.  Allow the development to occur to its fullest; grow and bloom.  Follow your bliss and be what you want to be.  Don't climb the ladder of success only to find it's leaning against the wrong wall.  Do not let your age limit your future growth as a human being...
   ...Remember I said love heals.  I do not claim love cures everything but it can heal and in the process of healing cures occur also."     (Bernie S. Siegel, Love, Medicine and Miracles)

The Lunchbox - An Unusual Indian Film

I saw this movie a couple of months ago but didn’t post a review because I felt the original trailer (without subtitles) did not do justice to the film.  Now I see that a new trailer (with English subtitles) has been put up, which is considerably better. 

Not that trailers are required to recommend a film, in fact, if you want to keep everything a surprise for yourself, don’t watch the trailer!  You could watch the second link (to a song) that I have given at the end, to get an idea of the characters and photography.

This film has done well in mainstream cinema even though it does not pander to Bollywood stereotypes and deals with serious issues (in a slightly romanticized fashion).  Perhaps it has done well simply because people are tired of watching continuous and excess glamour and endless song and dance sequences, perhaps it is because there is so much food in the story (food is stated to be the spine of the film, but I don’t think that is correct, however, food does seem to envelope or affect almost all the characters in one way or the other) or perhaps because it is an unusual love story.

I like the film for several reasons – the main one being its intelligent and sensitive approach to showing lives of different kinds of people or communities that still exist in India but that media generally doesn’t want to depict (they are so unglamorous and so not India shining!  Nor are they awfully depraved or violent!!).  It does so without crossing the fine line that would take it to realms of being clichéd, didactic or even dark.  It is about quirks of fate that transform people’s decisions and in turn, their lives.

The main actress, Nimrat Kaur, stated in an interview that the hardest thing for her to do in the film was to de-glamourize herself.  Indeed she looks remarkably unlike her off screen chic self, but this is the face of thousands of Indian women, quietly tucked away, working to keep their families together.  Nimrat has given a superb performance, especially as this is her first major role in a mainstream film.  The other two main actors, Irrfan Khan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui are veterans and are a joy to watch anytime.  They convey so much through their body language and style of speech; this is why it’s not worth watching a dubbed version of the film.  The official DVD with subtitles has not been released yet but I’m sure it will appear in the market soon.  The unseen and often heard ‘Auntie’ upstairs is done by Bharati Achrekar , a renowned Marathi actress.  All the other actors are very competent in their respective roles.

The Lunchbox was originally meant to be a documentary on dabbawallahs (the large army of people who unerringly deliver tiffin boxes from place to place in Mumbai) but eventually took the shape of a romantic feature film.  (It is hard to believe that it is the first feature film made by the director, Ritesh Batra.)  As mentioned earlier, this film has no real songs.  It has one borrowed song though, which adds a bit of charm and makes those unpalatable truths much easier to bear.  How does one deal with a life of ‘quiet desperation’?  Is life really as bad as one makes it out to be?  And finally – as the movie posters and trailers ask – can you fall in love with someone you have never met?  The film lets you find answers for yourself as it unfolds.

Apart from the romance and the philosophy, the well edited script and the skillful photography (showing the city of Mumbai), there are some tongue in cheek moments that are wonderfully done.  One in particular is when Ila (Nimrat) asks a dabbawallah whether her carefully packed tiffin box is reaching the right destination and he replies, “We have been commended by Prince Charles and Harvard; we never make mistakes!”  But as Shaikh  (Nawazuddin) says, “Sometimes the wrong train can take you to the right station.”  Watch this heartwarming and thought provoking film to get a glimpse of India that is rarely shown on screen.  I am attaching two links: the first is the trailer with English subtitles and the second is the small song sequence from the film.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENgWVvQYCxg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72PA9_pSZuM