Calcutta Corner

Roll Back Or Else...

The Trinamool Congress has done it again! Remember when TMC MPs voted in favour of the Lokpal Bill during the debate in Parliament two months ago only to be subsequently reprimanded by their leader Mamata Banerjee for so doing? Well, this time it looks like it’s union railway minister Dinesh Trivedi’s turn to be chided. Yes, Trivedi, TMC’s very own representative in the UPA government seems to have derailed and lost track of the party line while presenting the Railway Budget for 2012-2013. He announced fare hikes that simply didn’t gel with Didi’s populist policies back home in Bengal. Trivedi, whom Mamata Banerjee herself chose as her successor to head the union railway ministry after she resigned from the post in order to became Chief Minister of Bengal, seemed to have forgotten the cardinal TMC rule of never applying one’s own mind, but that of Didi’s. He presented a budget that maybe he thought was clever because while the hikes were ostensibly marginal— like 2 paise per kilometer for ordinary second class and suburban trains— it projected revenue generations in crores. But his Supremo obviously felt that the Budget wasn’t populist enough because she demanded a rollback of the increase. Trivedi’s Budget also steered clear of the unabashedly pro-Bengal stance that Didi’s own budget smacked of during her tenure as Railway Minister. Overall, Didi was simply not pleased. Not just Didi, other TMC party members too voiced their disapproval. Derek O'Brien, tweeted, “What was all that about increasing fares across the board?...upper class, maybe, ok, but all? Sorry, cannot agree.” When asked, “You mean you disagree with your own Union Minister?” he tweeted, “Yes, our party has issues on content.”

Five Years Back

Mamata Banerjee certainly knows what her priorities are. On Monday she put an end to speculations about whether or not she would attend the swearing-in ceremony of Punjab Chief Minister-designate Parkash Singh Badal to be held on March 14 by declaring that she would be at Nandigram. And why wouldn’t she be in Nandigram on March 14? After all it was here, at this sprawling East Midnapore village, on this day five years ago that she formally began her long and steady march toward the Writers’ Buildings, the West Bengal secretariat. On March 14, 2007, hundreds of armed men— whom the government called police but who were alleged to be ‘harmads’ or CPIM’s goons— descended on Nandigram to crush a mass protest against a policy of forcible land acquisition. The “harmads” forced themselves into Nandigram, raped, looted and opened fire, killing 14 civilians, including women and children. The incident sent shock waves through the state and people cutting across social, political and economic divides came out in unison to condemn it as the most flagrant violation of human rights since the British Raj. Indeed, what transpired in Nandigram on that day became the turning point for change in Bengal’s power politics, paving the way for Mamata’s TMC to oust 34 years of Left rule. Nandigram and March 14 made Mamata. How could she be anywhere else on that day?

Cinderella Hour

In spite of Calcutta’s reputation as a conservative city, it was the only city where nightclubs, pubs and discotheques have always stayed open till the early hours of the morning. Not anymore. From now on Calcutta nightlife will stop abruptly at midnight. Yes, four weeks after a woman was allegedly raped after coming out of a nightclub on Park Street late in the night, the Bengal government decided to impose the Cinderella hour rule. The decision has caused general outrage. Everyone from nightclub owners to party animals is complaining. According to pub and bar owners, if the last drink is served at 11:30 PM instead 1:30 AM (the old “last call” hour), then business would drop by 50 percent. Five star hotels claim that international guests sometimes arrive by late-night flights and order alcohol. This would be done away with under the new rule, and in the long run Calcutta might not be deemed a favourable destination by foreigners. Then there are the late-night party-goers, who are cribbing that the move is a regressive one. “It’s warped logic,” says a woman, who likes to “chill after a hard day’s work” at different nightclubs in the city. “Instead of containing the criminals, the police and government are cracking down on civilians.”

Adekhla

I haven’t seen the film yet, but director Sujoy Ghosh’s Kahaani, starring Vidya Balan, is predictably doing extremely well in Calcutta. Within just the first three days of its release it has raked in nearly Rs 2 crore rupees in Bengal. It is not surprising that Bengalis would flock to watch the movie, considering that it is set in Calcutta, which has also reportedly been depicted as a character in the movie. Trailers of the film on Bengali television and theatres beam stereotypical images of all that is Bengali— from Howrah Bridge to Durga Puja. Then there is that Bengali song (never mind the pronunciation!)—“Ami Shotti Bolchhi”— renting the air. The film also stars a host of Bengali actors. But what is bemusing is the way Calcuttans are gushing. “Have you seen Kahaani yet?” has been the common question friends asked as they greeted each other this week. My answer has been, “Actually, no”. That got me thinking: Yes, ok, our city has been featured and showcased in a major national film. So what? What’s the big deal? Let’s take it in our stride, shall we? We don’t have to go berserk every time Calcutta gets mentioned. For instance, we still haven’t been able to stop gushing about being called the City of Joy by French author Dominique Lapierre. There is a Bengali word for this sort of thing: Adekhla. It means being so overjoyed as to lose one’s wits.

Charulata 2011

By calling his Bengali feature film, “Charulata 2011”, director Agnidev Chatterjee immediately draws comparisons to Satyajit Ray’s 1964 classic Charulata starring Madhavi Chatterjee and Soumitra Chatterjee. In that comparison, the recently-released film starring Rituparna Sengupta as the lonely wife, Charulata, doesn’t even come close. The sensitivity of Ray’s understated depiction of a woman’s need to be loved gives way, in this film, to a demonstrative display that relies more on gross physicality than subtlety. Agnidev Chatterjee’s film too is based loosely on Rabindranath Tagore’s Noshto Neer (Broken Home) but adapted to modern days. A bored homemaker (Rituparna) is addicted to Facebook, where she befriends a man. Their virtual identities are Charulata 2011 and Amal (named for the characters of Ray’s film). Amal gives Charulata the attention and excitement that her husband cannot provide. They decide to meet. Sadly, the in-your-face passion that is subsequently thrust at us does little to evoke empathy for the protagonist. That empathy that was so poignantly evoked in the film of almost 50 years ago, silently, when Madhavi’s Charulata stared with emptiness-laced longing at the door through which Soumitra’s Amal had just walked out.