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Thursday, September 27, 2012
Ministry of culture, Jharkhand
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Convocation
Friday, September 21, 2012
In CEPT
Today in CEPT I had a few hours of lecture with the students. I was assisting Sudhanya Mukherjee .It was a wonderful experience and I had to talk about my journey and experience of the film. Film is the autobiography of a person , of a time , place , emotions and cultures etc. film is also called documentation. preserving the things.
I shared my document and shown my diploma film. At the end they also asked me that why u have edited the live footage?
The last shot is giving the final impact to the film that this film is and its incident are not hypothetical thing but also a real incident It is practised by women in present. It should take audience to the very pleasantfull environment to real situation. How in the ancient time people used to practice the same tradition and still they are continuing.
I shared my document and shown my diploma film. At the end they also asked me that why u have edited the live footage?
The last shot is giving the final impact to the film that this film is and its incident are not hypothetical thing but also a real incident It is practised by women in present. It should take audience to the very pleasantfull environment to real situation. How in the ancient time people used to practice the same tradition and still they are continuing.
Naayo (Poem)
English Script
Naayo (Women)
Every day,
sickle in hand,
she harvests her world.
Her stable and her family.
Nourishing them with what she brings.
Her fingers bruise
Blades of grass stain red.
The henna, helps hide her cuts;
She rolls the dough and roasts the bread.
The heat of the flames, the burning chilly,
Seeps through the cuts on her fingers.
She is happy, seeing her children’s rosy lips,
The flavor of her food lights up their faces.
But the husband cares not for her pain,
Crushing her hennaed resolve with his desires.
But as always, this morning too;
The henna, glitters in its freshness and color,
Rests on these hands.
Her sighs; her feminine grace
Are dubbed
Like the Rajnigandha(tuberose flower)which blooms at night
Enveloping the yard in its magical trail.
And one day
After dusk sets in
Like an old pot
Thrown in a decaying corner,she sits.
Her efforts forgotten
Her everyday work rendered ordinary
Unable to prove their worth
In the courts of this world.
Withered, she’s consumed,
like the clouds in the sky.
But such an animal is man:
Whose greed knows no bound?
She becomes like a tap left open,
With the hope of squeezing one last drop.
Each day she wakes to light the clay oven
Each night the oven is doused, by her
As she hopes her wound would heal
before the henna fades.
Every day,
sickle in hand,
she harvests her world.
Her stable and her family.
By Saheb Ram Tudu
Note: Underlined poetry is not used in Film.
Monday, September 3, 2012
अच्छी स्क्रीप्ट
जिंदगी में जब रुक कर
कुछ सोच tओ पाया
कुछ संवेद्नावों का कुंड कुछ सुख सा गया है...
पीछे कुछ यादें थी वो भी अब ऐसे लग रही है
जैसे पैरो तले फिसलते बालू से हो गए है।
मैं आज भी इस उम्मीद से खड़ा हूँ कि
किसी दिन मैं उनसे मिलूँगा पार
तब ताक बहुत देर हो जाईगी क्योंकि जिंदगी बड़ी ही घुमाव डर रस्ते कि तरह है
कब कहाँ मूढ़ जाएगी पता ही नहीं चलता।
कब कौन तुम्हें पकड़ के रोक ले
समझ में नहीं आता।
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