In this post, I had promised some poetry on a similar theme soon. Here are links to the poems.
Swantrata ka deepak by Gopal singh Nepali. Read this poem out loud, it has a brisk marching pace to it; the third verse is my favourite.
And do you remember this one from your school days - those who studied in CBSE might; Pushp ki abhilasha - makhanlal chaturvedi
Chale Mardane - Bachchan (neither Amitabh nor Abhishek, the really senior Bachchan is the poet)
And three poems where the Hindi is slightly tougher to understand :
This power-packed poem by Ramdhari Singh Dinkar is exhorting Indians to resist the British. It’s been one of my all-time favourites, had memorised the lyrics in school. The site that has the lyrics is missing one verse, but I couldn’t find the lyrics anywhere else.
Himadri Tung Shring Se - Jai Shankar Prasad
Var De – Suryakant Tripathi Nirala
And, before we end, here's a wWebsite from which you can play patriotic and inspirational songs - www.geetganga.org.
Till next week,
Zen and Friends.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Monday, February 01, 2010
Review of ‘Ishqiya’ – Desi Western, Couple of Crooks, Cool Caper
Finally, the much-awaited ‘Ishqiya’ released this weekend. The promos on TV were promising - a lead trio of NaseeruddinShah, Arshad Warsi and Vidya Balan, ably supported by awesome music from the Bharadwaj-Gulzar music-and-lyrics team, and an interesting story of two thieves on the run.
And did the movie disappoint ? Not at all ! As this poster suggests, ‘Ishqiya’ has colour, character, humour – some ribald though, and crackles with life; it’s a rollicking fun-filled debut film from director Abhishek Chaubey. Expect a fast-paced story, supported by good acting, great music, some bad language, some wit, some chemistry (both physical and sulphurous), and you will get full paisa-vasool entertainment.
A pair of small-time crooks – Khalujaan and Babban (Naseeruddin Shah and Arshad Warsi respectively) are on the run from Mushtaq Bhai with a bag full of cash that they have stolen from him. They shelter for a few days in the house of a genteel widow Krishna (Vidya Balan) in a village near Gorakhpur in UP; as the movie unfolds our heroes find that the widow isn’t as sweet and innocent as she appears to be and has an agenda of her own to fulfil. Rooted against the background of this story, we get some great shots of the rural hinterland, and a few brief glimpses of what caste-wars imply in the UP badlands.
The movie has great music, my favourite being the adorably picturised ‘Dil tho baccha hai ji’. The background score is aptly chosen and adds nuances to the story, whether it is the ring-tone of Jijaji’s cellphone, or the old S.D.Burman songs playing on the radio while Khalujaan tries to romance Krishna, or the more contemporary numbers that underscore Babban’s antics.
Some nitpicking – I doubt there are many widows in villages near Gorakhpur that wear such low-cut almost-backless blouses. And team that up with a pair of high heels ! Honestly ! While Babban and Khaalujaan wear the same shoes throughout the movie, the heroine’s footwear alternates between simple chappals and high heels. Whither continuity ? And realism ?
Furthermore, I felt that Vidya Balan’s performance, while good, was neither as intense nor as shaded as the plot demanded, though that may also have been due to the way the role was written. Compare against Tabu in ‘Maqbool’ or ‘Mahie Gill’ in Paro and you will know what I mean. At times, Vidya was so sweet that she seemed to be channelling ‘Parineeta’ !
While this movie was a great fun (I watched it twice, in two successive shows ! ), both director Abhishek Chaubey and Producer Vishal Bharadwaj need to work on a different theme and tempo for their next movie. They are in danger of getting stuck in the Omkara-Kaminey-Ishqiya genre.
Incidentally, I wonder what the source of inspiration for this movie was ? [Alert : Spoiler follows] ‘Maqbool’ and ‘Omkara’ were adaptations of Shakespearean plays, ‘Kaminey’ was inspired by Guy Ritchie and Tarantino’s caper flicks, what about this one ? A caper flick for sure, one of my friends claimed it reminded him of the basic outline of the ‘Kill Bill’ plot – the bride prefers an honest life, the husband attempts to murder her, she plots her revenge. What do you think ?
Ending with links to more reviews of the movie :
http://www.desipundit.com/baradwajrangan/2010/01/30/review-rann-ishqiya/
http://ibnlive.in.com/news/masand-movie-review-ishqiya-a-delicious-little-film/109408-8.html
http://lifestyle.iloveindia.com/lounge/ishqiya-review-6432.html
Zen.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Ek ? Anek ?
On the eve of Republic Day, we sat down to try and put together a list of songs that speak of our unity. Maybe our mood is driven by nostalgia for a sense of unity that seems to be evaporating, if ever it totally existed.
The first few on our list are a blast from the past, apologies for the poor picture quality on these:
The first, of course, the ‘Ek Titli, Anek Titliyaan’ broadcast on Doordarshan during the 80s and 90s.
‘Mile Sur Mera Tumhara’ – another regular feature on Doordarshan’s menu in the 90s, and it’s new avatar released today – ‘Phir mile sur mera tumhara’
On those lines, also ‘Baje Sargam’ (Desh Rag) from DD days
The ‘Hamara Bajaj’ ad – Buland Bharat ki Buland Tasveer
Rabbi’s contemporary version of ‘Jinhe Naaz hai Hind pe’ from Guru Dutt’s epic ‘Pyaasa’.
To add to the list of songs, we tweaked the theme to include facets of patriotism too. Though some recent songs crept into the list too, many of these were re-interpretations of old songs or from new movies about our history.
‘Bande mein tha dum’ from ‘Lage Raho Munnabhai’ – I know it sounds blasphemous, but I think it’s quite a good attempt to re-interpret the song and the Mahatma for a younger audience; and The original ‘Vande Mataram’ from ‘Anand Math’
‘Yeh jo desh hai tera’ from ‘Swades’
‘Desh mere desh mere meri jaan hai tu’ from ‘Legend of Bhagat Singh’
‘Sarfaroshi Ki Tammana ab humaare dil mein hai’ from the movies ‘Rang de basanti’ and ‘Legend of Bhagat singh’, the latter being one of the rare instances of Bollywood music doing justice to great original poetry.
‘Ae mere watan ke logon’ – this composition and Lata Mangeshkar’s melodious voice can bring tears to your eyes. This song has a lot of history associated with it; it was composed to commemorate Indian soldiers who died during the Sino-Indian war, check this link for details and for the lyrics.
‘ Jab zero diya mere bharat ne’ from ‘Purab aur Pashchim’, very corny picturisation though; another song from the Manoj Kumar stable – ‘Mere desh ki dharti’ from ‘Upkaar’, though I prefer ‘Jab zero diya...’
That’s all for this post. Stay tuned for some poetry along similar themes next week.
p.s. In case of any errors in this post, do post a comment so I can correct it. Also, do add to the list of songs here if you can think of more.
Jai Hind !
Songs in this post were remembered by,
Zen and friends.
The first few on our list are a blast from the past, apologies for the poor picture quality on these:
The first, of course, the ‘Ek Titli, Anek Titliyaan’ broadcast on Doordarshan during the 80s and 90s.
‘Mile Sur Mera Tumhara’ – another regular feature on Doordarshan’s menu in the 90s, and it’s new avatar released today – ‘Phir mile sur mera tumhara’
On those lines, also ‘Baje Sargam’ (Desh Rag) from DD days
The ‘Hamara Bajaj’ ad – Buland Bharat ki Buland Tasveer
Rabbi’s contemporary version of ‘Jinhe Naaz hai Hind pe’ from Guru Dutt’s epic ‘Pyaasa’.
To add to the list of songs, we tweaked the theme to include facets of patriotism too. Though some recent songs crept into the list too, many of these were re-interpretations of old songs or from new movies about our history.
‘Bande mein tha dum’ from ‘Lage Raho Munnabhai’ – I know it sounds blasphemous, but I think it’s quite a good attempt to re-interpret the song and the Mahatma for a younger audience; and The original ‘Vande Mataram’ from ‘Anand Math’
‘Yeh jo desh hai tera’ from ‘Swades’
‘Desh mere desh mere meri jaan hai tu’ from ‘Legend of Bhagat Singh’
‘Sarfaroshi Ki Tammana ab humaare dil mein hai’ from the movies ‘Rang de basanti’ and ‘Legend of Bhagat singh’, the latter being one of the rare instances of Bollywood music doing justice to great original poetry.
‘Ae mere watan ke logon’ – this composition and Lata Mangeshkar’s melodious voice can bring tears to your eyes. This song has a lot of history associated with it; it was composed to commemorate Indian soldiers who died during the Sino-Indian war, check this link for details and for the lyrics.
‘ Jab zero diya mere bharat ne’ from ‘Purab aur Pashchim’, very corny picturisation though; another song from the Manoj Kumar stable – ‘Mere desh ki dharti’ from ‘Upkaar’, though I prefer ‘Jab zero diya...’
That’s all for this post. Stay tuned for some poetry along similar themes next week.
p.s. In case of any errors in this post, do post a comment so I can correct it. Also, do add to the list of songs here if you can think of more.
Jai Hind !
Songs in this post were remembered by,
Zen and friends.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Mannu Bhai motor chali pum-pum-pum
Wonder how many of you recall this Kishore Kumar song that was popular years ago, the lyrics are as follows :
Mannu Bhai motor chali pum pum pum
Chaupaati jaayengey ne bhelpuri khayengey
Acchhi achhi sooraton se aankhen ladaayengey
Hallaa machaayengey ! Gulla machaayengey !
Bandbaajaa bajegaa dham dham dham !
If Mannu Bhai had been a taxi driver and been reborn in Bombay - ooooppps Mumbai - today, he might have had to change his name to Mahadev Bhau and sing this song in Marathi instead :
Mannu dada motor chalali pum pum pum
Chaupati jauya ani bhelphuri khauya
Chhaan chhaan mulinshi dolyaat dole milauya
Gondhal ghaluya ! Dhamal karuya !
Bandbaaja waje dham dham dham !
While some people may term this move by the Maharashtra State Government misguided, parochial or just plain silly, I think it’s quite a good idea, though not fully thought out. There is one flaw in this policy that could keep it from achieving maximum impact. While it makes Marathi compulsory, it does not make forgetting Hindi equally necessary. There may be taxi drivers that know both Marathi and Hindi, and hence conversation between passenger and taxi driver may yet be conducted in a language other than Marathi.
Lacking funds to implement either a linguistic memory wipe or partial lobotomy for taxi drivers, I suggest the state take recourse in the simple solution of passing a policy that makes it compulsory for passengers in taxis to know and speak in Marathi too. It should not be too difficult to monitor this. The state could invest in a speed-gun like instrument that detects and identifies the source of any non-Marathi language being spoken within a fixed radius. Policemen wielding this - let’s call it the ‘Language Lathi’ - could be stationed at traffic signals, major crossings etc and could dole out hefty fines and / or imprisonment for inadequate Marathi knowledge. (Note : I have stocked up on copies of ‘Learn Marathi in 30 Days’ – contact me once the copies in shops are sold out.)
Once this phase has been implemented, I suggest that in phase 2 the state focus on easy identification and targeting for MOB (Marathi Observation Bureau) purposes. In this phase, it will be made compulsory for every cabbie to display a black-and-white map of India on the taxi’s windshield with only the cabbie’s state-of-origin marked in colour. Every inhabitant of Mumbai should also be forced to carry a small map that declares state-of-origin in a similar fashion - though they can keep it in their wallets and do not need to stick it on their foreheads or chests.
In phase 3 the Grand Plan really comes together. Now, each religion will be assigned a colour and the state-of-origin should be in that colour. So now, we meet anyone and we know all that is important about them. Ah ! Bihar in Green, this person is a Muslim from Bihar. TN in saffron, a Hindu from TN ! Aiga ! Maharashtra in saffron – a mulga from the motherland ! Somebody wake up Mr. Nilekani, these are the important details for the Unique Identification card, all other details are just incidental.
Acknowledgements – Many thanks to Adolf Bhau for showing the way through his experiments with the yellow star (info here and here).
I Remain,
Yours sincerely,
Zenobai
Mannu Bhai motor chali pum pum pum
Chaupaati jaayengey ne bhelpuri khayengey
Acchhi achhi sooraton se aankhen ladaayengey
Hallaa machaayengey ! Gulla machaayengey !
Bandbaajaa bajegaa dham dham dham !
If Mannu Bhai had been a taxi driver and been reborn in Bombay - ooooppps Mumbai - today, he might have had to change his name to Mahadev Bhau and sing this song in Marathi instead :
Mannu dada motor chalali pum pum pum
Chaupati jauya ani bhelphuri khauya
Chhaan chhaan mulinshi dolyaat dole milauya
Gondhal ghaluya ! Dhamal karuya !
Bandbaaja waje dham dham dham !
While some people may term this move by the Maharashtra State Government misguided, parochial or just plain silly, I think it’s quite a good idea, though not fully thought out. There is one flaw in this policy that could keep it from achieving maximum impact. While it makes Marathi compulsory, it does not make forgetting Hindi equally necessary. There may be taxi drivers that know both Marathi and Hindi, and hence conversation between passenger and taxi driver may yet be conducted in a language other than Marathi.
Lacking funds to implement either a linguistic memory wipe or partial lobotomy for taxi drivers, I suggest the state take recourse in the simple solution of passing a policy that makes it compulsory for passengers in taxis to know and speak in Marathi too. It should not be too difficult to monitor this. The state could invest in a speed-gun like instrument that detects and identifies the source of any non-Marathi language being spoken within a fixed radius. Policemen wielding this - let’s call it the ‘Language Lathi’ - could be stationed at traffic signals, major crossings etc and could dole out hefty fines and / or imprisonment for inadequate Marathi knowledge. (Note : I have stocked up on copies of ‘Learn Marathi in 30 Days’ – contact me once the copies in shops are sold out.)
Once this phase has been implemented, I suggest that in phase 2 the state focus on easy identification and targeting for MOB (Marathi Observation Bureau) purposes. In this phase, it will be made compulsory for every cabbie to display a black-and-white map of India on the taxi’s windshield with only the cabbie’s state-of-origin marked in colour. Every inhabitant of Mumbai should also be forced to carry a small map that declares state-of-origin in a similar fashion - though they can keep it in their wallets and do not need to stick it on their foreheads or chests.
In phase 3 the Grand Plan really comes together. Now, each religion will be assigned a colour and the state-of-origin should be in that colour. So now, we meet anyone and we know all that is important about them. Ah ! Bihar in Green, this person is a Muslim from Bihar. TN in saffron, a Hindu from TN ! Aiga ! Maharashtra in saffron – a mulga from the motherland ! Somebody wake up Mr. Nilekani, these are the important details for the Unique Identification card, all other details are just incidental.
Acknowledgements – Many thanks to Adolf Bhau for showing the way through his experiments with the yellow star (info here and here).
I Remain,
Yours sincerely,
Zenobai
Monday, January 11, 2010
Another Chapter for ‘The Random Self-Help Book’
Those readers who have forgotten this project can refresh their memories here. The post below is the first entry for a Chapter titled ‘I would rather learn some things through observation than through experience’
I attended a fusion concert last week where I witnessed something interesting. The noted blues harmonica master Corky Siegel was one of those performing. When it was his turn to perform, he ambled on stage, simply dressed, with a water bottle in hand and set it down beside the piano. No one in the audience recognised him and no one clapped. Like me, I guess they mistook him for someone from the artists’ retinue who was ensuring that water was available in case the maestro felt thirsty. Only when he faced the audience, gazed straight at them for a few seconds and then bowed was there some perfunctory applause to welcome him on stage.
But after he played the harmonica, boy, was there some applause ! What an awesome performance ! No one in the audience had any doubts about being privileged to hear a musical genius and they showed their appreciation by clapping loud and long.
Which leads me to the dilemma – which of the following morals do I choose as the learning from this incident :
1) Being modest and self-effacing is all very well, but overdo it and you may be mistaken for a water-carrier. Sometimes a GRAND entry is necessary, ANNOUNCE your arrival in style.
2) It doesn’t matter if people don’t notice your arrival, as long as your performance leaves them spellbound and begging for more
You tell me, which moral would you choose ?
Zen.
I attended a fusion concert last week where I witnessed something interesting. The noted blues harmonica master Corky Siegel was one of those performing. When it was his turn to perform, he ambled on stage, simply dressed, with a water bottle in hand and set it down beside the piano. No one in the audience recognised him and no one clapped. Like me, I guess they mistook him for someone from the artists’ retinue who was ensuring that water was available in case the maestro felt thirsty. Only when he faced the audience, gazed straight at them for a few seconds and then bowed was there some perfunctory applause to welcome him on stage.
But after he played the harmonica, boy, was there some applause ! What an awesome performance ! No one in the audience had any doubts about being privileged to hear a musical genius and they showed their appreciation by clapping loud and long.
Which leads me to the dilemma – which of the following morals do I choose as the learning from this incident :
1) Being modest and self-effacing is all very well, but overdo it and you may be mistaken for a water-carrier. Sometimes a GRAND entry is necessary, ANNOUNCE your arrival in style.
2) It doesn’t matter if people don’t notice your arrival, as long as your performance leaves them spellbound and begging for more
You tell me, which moral would you choose ?
Zen.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
What to do in Tawang.....
...Apart from the usual visit to the monastery and to the Bum La Pass.
Visit the Ani Gompa (monastery for female monks). Unlike the main Tawang monastery whose presence dominates the town and which has bright yellow roofs that are visible from a distance, the Ani Gompa is tucked away discreetly on a hillside away from the town.
Visit Hotel Maa for a meal or a snack – awesome rasmalai and yummy parathas.
Visit the small music shops and ask for their own selection of English / Hindi music. These guys record eclectic mixtures of songs and music styles that make for great listening while travelling. You never know which song is going to play next, the unexpected melodies match the adventure waiting around the next turn.
Drive around aimlessly over the hills just outside town. Notice army presence, also old bunkers scattered on the hills, realize how close and fragile the border is over here. Then visit the war memorial in the centre of town – it commemorates the soldiers that died during the 1962 war with China.
Just walk around town. Notice the contrast between the expanse of the blue sky, the towering white mountains in the distance, and bunches of tiny red and orange flowers growing on the balconies of the houses nearby.
One of the photographs at the exhibition currently at Ravindra Natya Mandir in Mumbai captured exactly this scene and prompted this post. If, like me, you haven’t trekked in a while, an hour spent gazing at the photographs at the exhibition and exchanging memories of treks with friends is well worth it. Of course, it will result in a lot of wasted time the next day while you gaze at other photographs and schedule your next trek etc.
By,
Zen
Visit the Ani Gompa (monastery for female monks). Unlike the main Tawang monastery whose presence dominates the town and which has bright yellow roofs that are visible from a distance, the Ani Gompa is tucked away discreetly on a hillside away from the town.
Visit Hotel Maa for a meal or a snack – awesome rasmalai and yummy parathas.
Visit the small music shops and ask for their own selection of English / Hindi music. These guys record eclectic mixtures of songs and music styles that make for great listening while travelling. You never know which song is going to play next, the unexpected melodies match the adventure waiting around the next turn.
Drive around aimlessly over the hills just outside town. Notice army presence, also old bunkers scattered on the hills, realize how close and fragile the border is over here. Then visit the war memorial in the centre of town – it commemorates the soldiers that died during the 1962 war with China.
Just walk around town. Notice the contrast between the expanse of the blue sky, the towering white mountains in the distance, and bunches of tiny red and orange flowers growing on the balconies of the houses nearby.
One of the photographs at the exhibition currently at Ravindra Natya Mandir in Mumbai captured exactly this scene and prompted this post. If, like me, you haven’t trekked in a while, an hour spent gazing at the photographs at the exhibition and exchanging memories of treks with friends is well worth it. Of course, it will result in a lot of wasted time the next day while you gaze at other photographs and schedule your next trek etc.
By,
Zen
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Merry Christmas Everyone
To add to the festive spirit, listen to this lively rollicking version of 'Must be Santa'.
Would you ever have guessed that it was a Bob Dylan song if the singer's name hadn't been displayed on the screen ? Or if you hadn't read about it in some paper/mag/website earlier ?
The first time I caught this version of the song on vh1 I loved it – it has an infectious liveliness to it that makes you want to get up and dance immediately, there's the polka tune, the video shows a rambunctious Christmas party going on, there’s Santa bobbing about somewhere and it’s everything you’d think a jolly Christmas song should be. Except that it’s been sung by Bob Dylan – which was so unexpected that I gaped at the TV screen in shock as the credits rolled.
The first thing I thought of was the movie ‘Love Actually’ and the ageing rockstar singing a mushy Christmas song. But then my faith in Dylan (and his cynicism) made me check the lyrics online, hoping that he had changed the lyrics in some manner. But apparently he has not; however, all of Dylan’s royalties from the album benefit Feeding America and other international charities. So I guess that explains the upbeat all-is-well-with-the-world song.
Anyway, since it is the end of the year, and the time to celebrate, go check out the video on youtube, buy the album, and if you discover a twist in the lyrics, let me know. - Zen
p.s. Links for reviews of the song :
http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2009/11/16/premiere-bob-dylans-must-be-santa-video-from-christmas-lp/
http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2009/11/18/bob-dylans-must-be-santa-video-the-hairs-fake-but-the-dancings-real/
http://outtheother.typepad.com/blog/2009/12/xmas-radio-bob-dylan-must-be-santa.html
Would you ever have guessed that it was a Bob Dylan song if the singer's name hadn't been displayed on the screen ? Or if you hadn't read about it in some paper/mag/website earlier ?
The first time I caught this version of the song on vh1 I loved it – it has an infectious liveliness to it that makes you want to get up and dance immediately, there's the polka tune, the video shows a rambunctious Christmas party going on, there’s Santa bobbing about somewhere and it’s everything you’d think a jolly Christmas song should be. Except that it’s been sung by Bob Dylan – which was so unexpected that I gaped at the TV screen in shock as the credits rolled.
The first thing I thought of was the movie ‘Love Actually’ and the ageing rockstar singing a mushy Christmas song. But then my faith in Dylan (and his cynicism) made me check the lyrics online, hoping that he had changed the lyrics in some manner. But apparently he has not; however, all of Dylan’s royalties from the album benefit Feeding America and other international charities. So I guess that explains the upbeat all-is-well-with-the-world song.
Anyway, since it is the end of the year, and the time to celebrate, go check out the video on youtube, buy the album, and if you discover a twist in the lyrics, let me know. - Zen
p.s. Links for reviews of the song :
http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2009/11/16/premiere-bob-dylans-must-be-santa-video-from-christmas-lp/
http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2009/11/18/bob-dylans-must-be-santa-video-the-hairs-fake-but-the-dancings-real/
http://outtheother.typepad.com/blog/2009/12/xmas-radio-bob-dylan-must-be-santa.html
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Always Shielding the Flame
Marek Edelman, the last surviving leader of the heroic but doomed Warsaw Ghetto Uprising against the Nazis, passed away on October 2nd this year. The irony of the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi, an apostle of peace and non-violence, coinciding with the death anniversary of one who chose the path of violence against an oppressor made me read through an entire article on Mr. Edelman’s life. Having done that, I could not but search for more information on this exceptional person who lived through such a tumultuous period in history.
Have culled out details of his life and his beliefs from various obituaries and am reproducing these below (sources stated at the end of this post), primarily because I find the story of his life inspirational in many ways, also because I believe that ‘those who forget history are condemned to repeat it’.
The Warsaw ghetto had been established in October 1940 to cut off the city’s Jews, with a high wall and wire, from the general population. By April 1942 half a million people lived in this space of four square kilometres, with around 1,500 dying each week from hunger and disease. In those conditions, Mr Edelman said, the most important thing was just to be alive: not to be one of the naked corpses wheeled past on carts, heads bobbing up and down or knocking on the pavement. A “terrible apathy” took hold, in which people no longer saw or believed the random horrors round them. He tried to rouse his people, first by staying up night after night to print mimeograph newspapers, and then by fighting.
In 1942, Hitler put in place his plans for the ‘final solution’ to the Jewish question. From July 1942, the Nazis began deporting 6000 Jews at a time on to trains that took them to the Death Camps at Treblinka etc. By the time the Nazis paused the ghetto clearance, in September 1942, only 60,000 Jews remained inside the ghetto.
The Nazi onslaught to finally liquidate the ghetto began on April 19th 1943. Marek Edelman was deputy commander of 220 untrained “boys” with pistols and home-made explosives. Against them were around 2,000 Nazi soldiers, the pick of the Wehrmacht, with plenty more behind them. Over the next three weeks, the fighting was intense. The Jewish fighters killed dozens of Nazi soldiers but inevitably sustained far greater losses. "After three weeks," Edelman recalled, "most of us were dead.” The Germans proceeded to flush out the few remaining fighters by burning down the Ghetto; Edelman always insisted, "We were beaten by the flames, not the Germans."
He managed to flee to the Aryan side of the city. Once he was there, he immediately joined the ranks of the Polish underground resistance. In 1944, he participated in the Warsaw Uprising, another failed attempt at liberating Poland's capital from German occupation.
Only 280,000 of Poland’s 3.5 million Jews survived the Holocaust and returned at the end of the war. By 1970 that number was down to 20,000 or 30,000, as many fled the communist regime. Edelman’s wife and children left Poland during the Cold War anti-Semitism of the late 1960s, but he stayed. “Warsaw is my city. … Someone has to stay here with all those who died,” said he.
Contrary to others who survived the holocaust, his dream was not of some Zionist homeland, but a socialist Poland in which Jews would have cultural autonomy. He continued to hope for that all his life. He said in 2001, “Warsaw is my city. It is here that I learned Polish,Yiddish and German. It is here that at school, I learned one must always take care of others. It is also here that I was slapped in the face just because I was a Jew.”
Edelman's experiences had left him with a somewhat grim view of society. "Man is evil, by nature man is a beast," he said. "People have to be educated from childhood... that there should be no hatred.”
To me, the nobility of Edelman’s character lies not just in his heroic deeds, but also in the empathy towards those who chose passivity over resistance, a choice totally contrary to his own. After the end of World War II, the 20 days of fighting in the Ghetto were sometimes described as a rare example of active Jewish resistance to the horrors inflicted by the Germans. Though by some accounts, Edelman remained furious with the traditional Jewish leadership for allowing the Ghetto to passively accept their fate, he always refused to make any distinction of character between those in the ghetto who fought and those who boarded the trains to the camps. Both groups, he said, were simply dealing with an inevitable death in the best way they could.
"We knew perfectly well that we had no chance of winning," he recalled. "We fought simply not to allow the Germans alone to pick the time and place of our deaths. We knew we were going to die. Just like all the others who were sent to Treblinka." Indeed, Edelman added, far from going passively, those who went steadfastly to Treblinka had shown the ultimate courage. "Their death was far more heroic. We didn't know when we would take a bullet. They had to deal with certain death, stripped naked in a gas chamber or standing at the edge of a mass grave waiting for a bullet in the back of the head. It is an awesome thing, when one is going so quietly to one's death. It was easier to die fighting than in a gas chamber."
Marek Edelman's political engagement earned him widespread respect in contemporary Poland. In the 1970s, while still pursuing a career in cardiology, he became engaged in the dissident Workers' Defense Committee, which gave birth to the first major pro-democratic movement behind the Iron Curtain - the Solidarity Trade Union.
On 17 April 1998 Edelman was awarded Poland's highest decoration, the Order of the White Eagle. He also received the French Legion of Honour.
Throughout his life, he stated his strong opinions bluntly and did not mince words - certainly not when confronting injustice and hypocrisy. In 1999 he publicly supported NATO strikes in the Balkans, arguing that a policy of pacifist non-intervention only played into the hands of dictators. In August 2002, he spoke up for the Palestinians as he felt that the Jewish self-defense for which he had fought was in danger of crossing the line into oppression. He wrote an open letter to the Palestinian resistance leaders. Though the letter criticized the suicide bombers, its tone infuriated the Israeli government and press.
In April 2009, Edelman joined leading Polish filmmakers and writers in a protest to the government after a former neo-Nazi took over the running of the country’s public television network. “People who publicly support racism and anti-Semitism shouldn’t be allowed to play a role in public life,” he wrote in an open letter to Prime Minister. “Don’t forget that evil can grow bigger.”
Hanna Krall, a chronicler of the Polish Jews' past, recorded Marek Edelman's life story in her world-acclaimed book, 'Shielding the Flame'. The opus' reflects Edelman's afterthought on the nature of his medical profession. "God wants to dim the candle's light, and I have to shield it quick, before he notices," he described his craft as a doctor (he was a noted cardiologist in Poland after the war).
As Jaroslaw Adamowski says in this article, whether struggling against the Nazis in the ruins of the Warsaw Ghetto or curing his patients' illnesses, Marek Edelman would not let the light dim, shielding the flame by all means. It is how he should be remembered.
By,
Zen
Sources of information :
News articles -
1) http://www.economist.com/obituary/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14585545#
2) http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-perspec1018tyneroct18,0,3396676.story (this article also describes how Marek Edelman and other surviving fighters escaped from the ghetto and out into Poland when the Nazis burnt down the ghetto)
3) http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/politics-obituaries/6259900/Marek-Edelman.html# (has some details of when and how preparations for the Warsaw uprising began)
4) http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1254827721470&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull
5) http://jta.org/news/article/2009/10/07/1008378/remembering-marek-edelman
6) http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601100&sid=a4h2M9HvJ4Kg
websites and blogs -
1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marek_Edelman
2) http://leninology.blogspot.com/2009/10/marek-edelman.html (this post has a brief history of the Warsaw Ghetto from 1939 to 1943; also interesting as it ends with a brief reference to Tarantino’s latest ‘Inglourious Basterds’)
3) http://www.socialistworker.co.uk/art.php?id=19233
4) http://www.organizedrage.com/2009/10/obituary-marek-edelman-cardiologist.html#
5) http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/Holocaust/warsaw-uprising.html - some details on the history of the Jews in Poland after 1939
Have culled out details of his life and his beliefs from various obituaries and am reproducing these below (sources stated at the end of this post), primarily because I find the story of his life inspirational in many ways, also because I believe that ‘those who forget history are condemned to repeat it’.
The Warsaw ghetto had been established in October 1940 to cut off the city’s Jews, with a high wall and wire, from the general population. By April 1942 half a million people lived in this space of four square kilometres, with around 1,500 dying each week from hunger and disease. In those conditions, Mr Edelman said, the most important thing was just to be alive: not to be one of the naked corpses wheeled past on carts, heads bobbing up and down or knocking on the pavement. A “terrible apathy” took hold, in which people no longer saw or believed the random horrors round them. He tried to rouse his people, first by staying up night after night to print mimeograph newspapers, and then by fighting.
In 1942, Hitler put in place his plans for the ‘final solution’ to the Jewish question. From July 1942, the Nazis began deporting 6000 Jews at a time on to trains that took them to the Death Camps at Treblinka etc. By the time the Nazis paused the ghetto clearance, in September 1942, only 60,000 Jews remained inside the ghetto.
The Nazi onslaught to finally liquidate the ghetto began on April 19th 1943. Marek Edelman was deputy commander of 220 untrained “boys” with pistols and home-made explosives. Against them were around 2,000 Nazi soldiers, the pick of the Wehrmacht, with plenty more behind them. Over the next three weeks, the fighting was intense. The Jewish fighters killed dozens of Nazi soldiers but inevitably sustained far greater losses. "After three weeks," Edelman recalled, "most of us were dead.” The Germans proceeded to flush out the few remaining fighters by burning down the Ghetto; Edelman always insisted, "We were beaten by the flames, not the Germans."
He managed to flee to the Aryan side of the city. Once he was there, he immediately joined the ranks of the Polish underground resistance. In 1944, he participated in the Warsaw Uprising, another failed attempt at liberating Poland's capital from German occupation.
Only 280,000 of Poland’s 3.5 million Jews survived the Holocaust and returned at the end of the war. By 1970 that number was down to 20,000 or 30,000, as many fled the communist regime. Edelman’s wife and children left Poland during the Cold War anti-Semitism of the late 1960s, but he stayed. “Warsaw is my city. … Someone has to stay here with all those who died,” said he.
Contrary to others who survived the holocaust, his dream was not of some Zionist homeland, but a socialist Poland in which Jews would have cultural autonomy. He continued to hope for that all his life. He said in 2001, “Warsaw is my city. It is here that I learned Polish,Yiddish and German. It is here that at school, I learned one must always take care of others. It is also here that I was slapped in the face just because I was a Jew.”
Edelman's experiences had left him with a somewhat grim view of society. "Man is evil, by nature man is a beast," he said. "People have to be educated from childhood... that there should be no hatred.”
To me, the nobility of Edelman’s character lies not just in his heroic deeds, but also in the empathy towards those who chose passivity over resistance, a choice totally contrary to his own. After the end of World War II, the 20 days of fighting in the Ghetto were sometimes described as a rare example of active Jewish resistance to the horrors inflicted by the Germans. Though by some accounts, Edelman remained furious with the traditional Jewish leadership for allowing the Ghetto to passively accept their fate, he always refused to make any distinction of character between those in the ghetto who fought and those who boarded the trains to the camps. Both groups, he said, were simply dealing with an inevitable death in the best way they could.
"We knew perfectly well that we had no chance of winning," he recalled. "We fought simply not to allow the Germans alone to pick the time and place of our deaths. We knew we were going to die. Just like all the others who were sent to Treblinka." Indeed, Edelman added, far from going passively, those who went steadfastly to Treblinka had shown the ultimate courage. "Their death was far more heroic. We didn't know when we would take a bullet. They had to deal with certain death, stripped naked in a gas chamber or standing at the edge of a mass grave waiting for a bullet in the back of the head. It is an awesome thing, when one is going so quietly to one's death. It was easier to die fighting than in a gas chamber."
Marek Edelman's political engagement earned him widespread respect in contemporary Poland. In the 1970s, while still pursuing a career in cardiology, he became engaged in the dissident Workers' Defense Committee, which gave birth to the first major pro-democratic movement behind the Iron Curtain - the Solidarity Trade Union.
On 17 April 1998 Edelman was awarded Poland's highest decoration, the Order of the White Eagle. He also received the French Legion of Honour.
Throughout his life, he stated his strong opinions bluntly and did not mince words - certainly not when confronting injustice and hypocrisy. In 1999 he publicly supported NATO strikes in the Balkans, arguing that a policy of pacifist non-intervention only played into the hands of dictators. In August 2002, he spoke up for the Palestinians as he felt that the Jewish self-defense for which he had fought was in danger of crossing the line into oppression. He wrote an open letter to the Palestinian resistance leaders. Though the letter criticized the suicide bombers, its tone infuriated the Israeli government and press.
In April 2009, Edelman joined leading Polish filmmakers and writers in a protest to the government after a former neo-Nazi took over the running of the country’s public television network. “People who publicly support racism and anti-Semitism shouldn’t be allowed to play a role in public life,” he wrote in an open letter to Prime Minister. “Don’t forget that evil can grow bigger.”
Hanna Krall, a chronicler of the Polish Jews' past, recorded Marek Edelman's life story in her world-acclaimed book, 'Shielding the Flame'. The opus' reflects Edelman's afterthought on the nature of his medical profession. "God wants to dim the candle's light, and I have to shield it quick, before he notices," he described his craft as a doctor (he was a noted cardiologist in Poland after the war).
As Jaroslaw Adamowski says in this article, whether struggling against the Nazis in the ruins of the Warsaw Ghetto or curing his patients' illnesses, Marek Edelman would not let the light dim, shielding the flame by all means. It is how he should be remembered.
By,
Zen
Sources of information :
News articles -
1) http://www.economist.com/obituary/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14585545#
2) http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-perspec1018tyneroct18,0,3396676.story (this article also describes how Marek Edelman and other surviving fighters escaped from the ghetto and out into Poland when the Nazis burnt down the ghetto)
3) http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/politics-obituaries/6259900/Marek-Edelman.html# (has some details of when and how preparations for the Warsaw uprising began)
4) http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1254827721470&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull
5) http://jta.org/news/article/2009/10/07/1008378/remembering-marek-edelman
6) http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601100&sid=a4h2M9HvJ4Kg
websites and blogs -
1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marek_Edelman
2) http://leninology.blogspot.com/2009/10/marek-edelman.html (this post has a brief history of the Warsaw Ghetto from 1939 to 1943; also interesting as it ends with a brief reference to Tarantino’s latest ‘Inglourious Basterds’)
3) http://www.socialistworker.co.uk/art.php?id=19233
4) http://www.organizedrage.com/2009/10/obituary-marek-edelman-cardiologist.html#
5) http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/Holocaust/warsaw-uprising.html - some details on the history of the Jews in Poland after 1939
Saturday, October 10, 2009
King of the Road
I wrote this post some time ago, but was wary of exposing my unpseud yearnings - until I read this article by Shobha Narayan in the Mint Lounge yesterday. Now that she’s come out of the closet, I feel less embarrassed about admitting to my unusual automobile ambitions.
I have always felt that the sturdy ol’ Ambassador was the perfect car for me. I want to be able to drive without worrying about whether I am too close to the next car, the pavement, or the road divider; hence my car has perforce to be one that can take the force of impact and minimize injury to me. Another advantage of an Amby is that every once in a while, I could indulge my evil side by gently nudging aside a shiny new Merc or BMW without caring a whit about what happens to my car. While their owners would worry about the damage to the majestic visage of their car, I could whistle nonchalantly as I drove away - amongst a hundred scratches on an Amby, who minds adding one more ?
But then I read these articles a few months ago about the luxury buses being converted into election raths for political leaders and my humble Amby level aspirations were instantly upgraded. Now I want a converted luxury bus from the JCBL factory in Punjab. Their ability to all but drive over other cars puts even an Ambassador’s sturdiness in the shade. As the green goblin says in this poem by Harold Monro,”Give them me.” How much fun I could have with one of these !
At the wheel of one of the JCBL luxury buses, I would literally be the ‘King of the Road’. No more gently honking at people who don’t give way, now I could pick up the microphone, switch on the election –strength loudspeaker and holler in chaste Bambaiiya, ”abbe oye, tuzhaaa aaiichaaa……” ! I might even have an advance rider on a motorcycle with a siren so that lesser cars could whimper in fear and scurry down side-streets for safety leaving a nice empty road for me to drive down.
During rush hour, I might still get stuck in traffic which would be a tad frustrating, but not for more than a few minutes as I switched on music, picked up a book and lounged on the sofa with a chilled Thums Up from the fridge. Maybe I would even watch a movie on the TV or catch up on the soaps. Occasionally I’d be nice and use the sound system for playing music to the poor plebs outside. On days when I was in a more extroverted mood, I could crank up the hydraulic stage and address the captive audience stuck in assorted cars and cabs through the loudspeaker system – it would beat even a blog for ease of inflicting one’s views on an innocent and unsuspecting public. I’d probably keep a long cattle prod with me too, in case anyone said anything remotely uncomplimentary or honked rudely – bzzzzzt – and they’d be fried.
So Shobha, if you gift me an Ambassador or a JCBL luxury bus this Diwali, I promise to gift you a blue autorickshaw in return. Happy Diwali !
By,
Zenobia D. Driver
I have always felt that the sturdy ol’ Ambassador was the perfect car for me. I want to be able to drive without worrying about whether I am too close to the next car, the pavement, or the road divider; hence my car has perforce to be one that can take the force of impact and minimize injury to me. Another advantage of an Amby is that every once in a while, I could indulge my evil side by gently nudging aside a shiny new Merc or BMW without caring a whit about what happens to my car. While their owners would worry about the damage to the majestic visage of their car, I could whistle nonchalantly as I drove away - amongst a hundred scratches on an Amby, who minds adding one more ?
But then I read these articles a few months ago about the luxury buses being converted into election raths for political leaders and my humble Amby level aspirations were instantly upgraded. Now I want a converted luxury bus from the JCBL factory in Punjab. Their ability to all but drive over other cars puts even an Ambassador’s sturdiness in the shade. As the green goblin says in this poem by Harold Monro,”Give them me.” How much fun I could have with one of these !
At the wheel of one of the JCBL luxury buses, I would literally be the ‘King of the Road’. No more gently honking at people who don’t give way, now I could pick up the microphone, switch on the election –strength loudspeaker and holler in chaste Bambaiiya, ”abbe oye, tuzhaaa aaiichaaa……” ! I might even have an advance rider on a motorcycle with a siren so that lesser cars could whimper in fear and scurry down side-streets for safety leaving a nice empty road for me to drive down.
During rush hour, I might still get stuck in traffic which would be a tad frustrating, but not for more than a few minutes as I switched on music, picked up a book and lounged on the sofa with a chilled Thums Up from the fridge. Maybe I would even watch a movie on the TV or catch up on the soaps. Occasionally I’d be nice and use the sound system for playing music to the poor plebs outside. On days when I was in a more extroverted mood, I could crank up the hydraulic stage and address the captive audience stuck in assorted cars and cabs through the loudspeaker system – it would beat even a blog for ease of inflicting one’s views on an innocent and unsuspecting public. I’d probably keep a long cattle prod with me too, in case anyone said anything remotely uncomplimentary or honked rudely – bzzzzzt – and they’d be fried.
So Shobha, if you gift me an Ambassador or a JCBL luxury bus this Diwali, I promise to gift you a blue autorickshaw in return. Happy Diwali !
By,
Zenobia D. Driver
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Unimportant Musings
If you were me and I was you
And we met on a summer's hue
I wouldn't know what to say
Probably Parlez vous anglais
And you'd laugh and walk away
I have small errands to run
Only I cant seem to get them done
A car to fix, a bulb to replace
Whom to ask - not a shop to trace
I wake up one morning
Take a train to nowhere
Nowhere comes and goes
Cities in droves
One just like another
All equally unfamiliar
Futile I walk home to the sunset
With not even the light for company
Dinner- Alone but I cook and dress
Some chapatis and a curry
A taste of home and smells from far away
Tomorrow will be another day
I take the train to Nowhere
I get down Somewhere
I could be elsewhere or back at home
It doesn't matter- i am just as alone
There's something to be said for going back home
Back to people and familiarity
Where if I met you and you met me
Our eyes would dance
And I would not miss that chance
To ask for dinner and some fun
And we'd walk a lonely road in the evening sun
Lesser people around
But enough to make a crowd
And you'd see me and I'd see you
And we'd be happy just the two
By,
Anonymous
(Note : Check earlier by poem submitted by anonymous last year - http://entropymuse.blogspot.com/2008/09/me-and-you.html)
And we met on a summer's hue
I wouldn't know what to say
Probably Parlez vous anglais
And you'd laugh and walk away
I have small errands to run
Only I cant seem to get them done
A car to fix, a bulb to replace
Whom to ask - not a shop to trace
I wake up one morning
Take a train to nowhere
Nowhere comes and goes
Cities in droves
One just like another
All equally unfamiliar
Futile I walk home to the sunset
With not even the light for company
Dinner- Alone but I cook and dress
Some chapatis and a curry
A taste of home and smells from far away
Tomorrow will be another day
I take the train to Nowhere
I get down Somewhere
I could be elsewhere or back at home
It doesn't matter- i am just as alone
There's something to be said for going back home
Back to people and familiarity
Where if I met you and you met me
Our eyes would dance
And I would not miss that chance
To ask for dinner and some fun
And we'd walk a lonely road in the evening sun
Lesser people around
But enough to make a crowd
And you'd see me and I'd see you
And we'd be happy just the two
By,
Anonymous
(Note : Check earlier by poem submitted by anonymous last year - http://entropymuse.blogspot.com/2008/09/me-and-you.html)
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