My School, My Heaven

Just came across my first school’s community in Orkut. And since then can’t help but recount all my happy years spent in school. From lining up near the gate to sing the national anthem every morning to swinging on the entrance gates and getting scolded almost every day.

Very few have ever been through the esteemed hallways of East Point School (yes that was the name, as ridiculous as it may sound), but I’m sure that everyone’s lives were somehow touched by the spirit and the culture there. Very few of my friends know about it, ‘cause I have almost guarded the knowledge from them in the fear of being ridiculed because of its name, as I was initially when i joined the new school, Cambridge. But I can’t be prouder of having joined EPS, my childhood could never have been be more enriched. I remember the weird arrangement when Japanese students joined us in the 5th standard. They were superlative in sports and were very fun to be with. I still remember all their names; Michael, Raphael, Elijah, Robert, Pauline and the attractive Rachel. They would be there just for the initial four periods and then head back home, and the periods were arranged such that English, Hindi and Math was taught in the mornings. It was a queer arrangement, and many would question as to why a school would go to such lengths to take just 6 students in class. But the school was perennially short of funds; even working capital needs were met with difficulty.

I remember the inadequate infrastructure, the school operated out of. One three floored building and that was it. Many of my friends lived in houses larger than that school building. No sports ground to speak of. Our sports periods were spent under the vigilant eyes of a teacher in a community ground of that place, just behind our school. Small classrooms, individual chairs and tables, a small library that housed few books, and one “khoosat” librarian. No canteen and no open spaces that I took for granted in my new school. But it couldn’t have been better. Smaller classes meant lesser students per class; I guess 30 in a class and 2 sections for that standard was the maximum that the school ever managed. Yet, it was this sole reason which promoted friendship and closeness both between the students as well as the teachers and the students. I remember the teachers fondly. Vandana mam and her cute daughter Sonali, Amita mam and her slightly British accent, Radha mam and her south Indian accent, Sharma mam and how she always disliked me, as I was poor in Hindi. I remember Christopher Sir, and how well he played the guitar. His Bon Jovi looks, long blonde hair would have floored many a girl. And Kanti sir and how he would slap both cheeks simultaneously, and how it used to hurt back then. I remember the classes, somehow I was brilliant right through till 8th standard; i remembered i got the best student award in every class till 8th and cried when i got 63 in Math in the mid terms.

You would ask as to why I left the school at all. But as luck would have it, the school did not have permission to conduct classes beyond 8th, neither could it, there was no space left. My academic career nosedived thereafter. I used to hold my new school culpable for that, with its typically overfilled and noisy students, uncaring teachers and poor teaching methods. But then, my old school had pampered me so much, that any place after that was bound to be a shock. Nobody can imagine studying in a class size of 11, yes 11, and that was my final year at school, with 6 girls and 5 boys in one class. You could imagine the level of closeness the teachers had with each students. Typically the students would be living near the school itself, and were within walking distance of each other’s places. We used to visit each other often. We used to shop for gifts together when any teacher had a birthday and then went all the way to our teacher’s home to wish her. Generally when someone joined the school, nobody left unless “better knowing” parents in the interest of their children’s futures would take them away. When I think of the past, I can remember zilch of my new school; I had practically no friend and precisely one teacher who I liked. So I have no memory of years from 9th to 12th, a time when most students have most fun in their lives, into their teens and about to enter adulthood. But I had had my fun early in life. And nobody could replace that, those memories are etched in my mind, none have faded. Some of the long lost friends, Anubhav, Sakshi, Manu, Gautam, Gaurav….I still remember them, have not talked to them now for like 8 years, don’t know where they are or what they are doing presently but I’m sure I’ll face no anxiety when I meet them, only nostalgia of what I had, and what I miss most in my life…..my school, my heaven……

Will any Indian movie win an Oscar in the near future?

India is the producer of the largest number of movies in the world. Despite this, our movies have featured amongst the nominees of Best Foreign film category only thrice. India's first ever entry to the Oscars, Mother India got the nomination for the best foreign film, but couldn't win it at the Academy members didn't like the ending. Thereafter, a long wait of 31 years ensued. Salaam Bombay, a movie based on the miserable lives of street kids of Bombay, was the next to feature in the category. It was unlucky to lose out. And, we all know about legendary Lagaan which lost out to No man's land. One which we thought would break the shackles and bring us an Oscar, RDB didn’t even make the final cut.

There is no denying the fact that majority of movies made in India are not worth a watch, but the same can't be said about the Indian cinema of 50's and 60's with greats like Guru Dutt, Satyajit Ray, Shyam Benegal and many others .Satyajit Ray won the Oscar for “Lifetime achievement in Cinema”, but it is ironic that none of his movies were found good enough by the Academy to even be nominated.

This leads me to think that the perception of the world about India is still that of a third world country. Because movies that have made it to the final list of nominees - Mother India, Lagaan and Salaam Bombay - depict India as a third world country or a backward state. Perhaps that’s the reason why a movie like Rang de Basanti failed to get make the grade.

Shekhar Kapoor had once said that it all depends on market dynamics, India is not a market for Hollywood movies, so it won't be getting any Oscars. I don’t buy this line of reasoning. Because small movies from Algeria have also won at the Oscars, surely we are a bigger market for Hollywood than them. The problem then lies somewhere else.

Most of the films that are sent through are Hindi films whereas there are a lot of good regional movies as well which deserve attention. In the last 10 years, there has been only 1 non-hindi movie that was sent, Shwaas. The selection jury must ensure that the best piece of cinema from the industry makes the cut, not just the largest Hindi magnum-opus of that year.

Another crucial factor that places Hindi movies on a disadvantage is the lobbying or lack thereof. Promotions and media coverage does affect the opinions and preconceptions of the jury. Alas, this requires large sums of money that most of the times Indian entrants are not willing to commit. Movies like Shwaas are made on small budgets, hence do not have the wherewithal to spend the amounts on promotion as foreign flicks do. But even a large spend does not ensure a success, Amir Khan spent more than a million dollars to promote Lagaan to no avail.

So I am led to believe that Indian movies are perhaps just not good enough. Over the years the technical production has improved so we think that our movies have become world class. We conveniently forget that many of the movies lack content. What we need for an Oscar are some serious film makers who know their art. What we need are two words that are unfashionable today: sincerity and honesty. One ingredient required for a successful international movie is sincerity of the film maker, not making too many compromises for commercial success. Each frame should be a work of art and the story should be told as it happens. If we look at the Oscar winners of the past we cannot deny that most of them broke new grounds in cinema. None of our movies do that, they are made specifically keeping the mass audience in mind, hence they depend on gimmickry to make the films succeed.

We are living in a fool’s paradise when we say that our creations merit an Oscar. So when Amitabh Bachhan says that Indian films should not aspire to win the Oscar, that they require an Oscar to certify them as being good, was offensive to him, I cannot help but thinking him of a sore loser. Perhaps then he can downgrade the reputation of the Oscars as well by shedding light on its origins, that they were devised as a publicity stunt to promote sagging box office figures in the US in and around March. Sad but true.