The Hindu Business Line : Love is in the air...

SOME mornings all of us turn out of bed with a rhyme in the heart. This morning on St. Valentine's Day, one came off the bed twittering with the song of Harry Belafonte,

"Down the way where the nights are gay

And the sun shines on the mountaintop... .

Sad to say I am on my way, won't be back for many a day

My heart is down, my head is turning around

As I had to leave my little girl in Kingston town."

One was not sure of the lines or of the tune but Belafonte made my morning as one stepped out for a long stroll. The 5 a.m. sky held up a freshly burnished, bright lantern, the size of a full moon, for all the world to find their way in the darkness.

Linking Road is being freshly laid with cement and as one walked past a seven-star club, one faintly noted young couples in huddles amid the spacious shadows left by the sky's lantern. It was an early St. Valentine's morning for them. Old couples encased in ancient memories walked by and one overheard an aged lady telling her husband, "Aaj, premiyon ka din hai (It is the day for lovers)." There was a trill in the voice of the woman. In their times and in the age when this writer was young in Calcutta there was no St. Valentine's Day or Archies cards though there was plenty of feminine charm for the connoisseur.

For me, the ladies of Calcutta are original, not American diamonds and no other city can boast the lineage. Four months ago, on a visit to that city one made a trip to St. Xavier's College, which in my times never admitted females.

The College remains the same as it was some three and more decades ago though this time a young lady in jeans and a T-shirt took me around the place. When I told her it was my alma mater, she remarked, "Uncle, you look old. How many ages ago was that." One offered to stand her a cup of tea but her friends came and we parted.

Walking down the road in Borivili with memories swirling in the head one missed the call of a regular friend. "Kithar ja rahe hain (Where are you going)," he asked before wishing one a good day. A bike loaded with a couple came to a halt near us. They got down and moved away holding hands. After they had gone a long way, my friend broke into the song crooned by Lata in Mughal-e-Azam for the finest face of Indian films, Madhubala, running: "Pyar kiya tho darna kya/pyar kiya koi chori nahin ki/ chup chup ahein bhar na kya... .. Parda nahin jab koi khuda se bandon se parda karna kya." This piece can top any list of Indian films with Shakeel Badayuni doing the lyrics and Naushad doing the score.

My friend did the lines well; more importantly, the few aged men and women around him graciously acknowledged the need for St. Valentine's Day. Over the last couple of months a few of us have set up a habit to meet near a gym to chat over a cup of tea after our walking ritual. Usually we gather at 7 a.m. and disburse at around 8 a.m. and this day the agenda was headed by the sick political protests over the young having a fine time. None liked the idea.

"Let them loot the land and sell it to a Bush for a rupee but at least let them leave the young to themselves," argued my friend, which got a debate going on Rang de Basanti where a few young men and women have fun in the first half, and get dubiously serious in the second half to spoil the mood.

Skilful camera work, screaming music from A.R. Rehman and crisp Punjabi dialogues with Kiron Kher showing off her talent are a few pluses. A sharp line of dialogue caps the state of affairs in India: "Ek pav past mein, ek future mein, hum log beech ke present mein muththe hain (One leg in the past, another in the future, we piddle on the present)." The crowd in InOrbit at Malad (with the ticket costing Rs 160) loved it and all of the film. When the defence minister is shot dead one could hear "wah, wah" from the seats around.

Bhawana Somaaya in an essay, "Reel is now more real," in Indian Express writes, "Finally, Hindi cinema has got it right." Possibly, Aparna Sen got it right with No.15, Park Avenue. The film shuts down in a cinematically abrupt style and only Aparna could have done it with élan. There could be no other end though not many in the empty theatre thought so. The show could do with some editing, while it is hard to choose between Konkana Sensharma and Shabana Azmi. "Today, Rang de Basanti will run to full houses, " remarked an old gentleman as we packed up.

In the train to the office, young men and women were constantly on their chirping mobiles. The heart of the Mumbaikar was beating at a normal 120/80. There is still space for the St. Valentine's young in Mumbai.

P. Devarajan