It suffices

I don’t believe in reviews. I think they are the worded weapons of insularity. I don’t get why a person who claims that he would understand the quality of cinema better than the general public and expect everyone to take his or her analysis of how good or bad a story is, should be taken so seriously. It deducts the thought process of a person completely ignorant of a certain film into should he watch it, or should he not. I think that is unfair on the viewer and the film in itself. I really don’t think there is any universal good or bad in works of art, it all depends on people and their tastes and preferences, which in turn depends on their socio-cultural background. So when I write about films, I am writing about my views, because I have this rigid mindset that stands up with a cane and thrashes my backside red before deafening me with a strident sermon saying: FILMS SHOULD BE WRITTEN ABOUT.

Really. We should all write on films. Not lecturing the so called viewers whether or not they should go check the films, but to see, how a story ranging from two to three hours strikes some chords in you. And trust me it does. Even the worst film that you thought was ever made, has in someway struck some chords in you. And I think unless you spare some thoughts about it, you would probably never know how. And then there are certain films that don’t make you work hard for it.

3 Idiots for me, is one such.

The idea of knowledge in today’s Indian society, has probably become more warped than open relationships and literate politicians. And let me not get into why and how it has become so. Instead, let’s look at a pair of eyes, hardly batting, and almost star struck in the middle of an otherwise gloomy classroom. Eyes that swallow rather than see, and perhaps the contents of whatever they swallow, are so delightful, that the smile just refuses to go from the face. Like a child who has just been asked to become the taster of an experimental candy factory. Asked about the reason of such an almost bordering foolish but in a strange way calmly sated smile, the humble reply says, “I am just happy to be here and learn what I love.” If a nation can have students who go through that exact experience even once a year, I think it gets reason enough to celebrate education, and the system through which it is promoted.

Aamir Khan has a thing with portraying education as it should be. He really does. He did it as a teacher in Taare Zameen Par, and now as a student in 3 Idiots. But let’s not talk about him here. A lisping Principal as the viciously strict academician might have reminded a lot of people about a lot of teachers who kept them awake in the silent nights of December; a geeky go-by-the-books fiercely competitive but lacking imagination pain-in-the-butt being mocked at might make a few call some of their friends up and tease them about how they used to be or how they still are; or even the choice that one takes between passion and pain, that would awake a few bitter feelings that some thought they had finally put to sleep. Whatever it was, 3 Idiots, has hardly missed out on any emotion that we might not be able to relate to as an Indian student.

And Mr. Hirani has done all this making sure that we have that smile in our faces, similar to Rancho, throughout the length of the movie. It was almost like a fierce resolution. That the audience should smile. Through sorrow, through pain, loss or happiness. Audience. Watching his film. Has to smile. And what else could I have asked for. Going through failure, and standing by friends, learning with honesty and drinking till the wee hours of night, urinating in revenge, and getting electric shocks in the process, proposing while drunk, and kidnapping the bride to take her to her lover, getting paralysed, and getting out of it, living, loving, hating and well, conceiving, with a smile in our faces. What else, could I have asked for?

The calmness of a student who has faced death and come back. The excitement of another who has suddenly discovered wings that have given him the courage to face people who have forever scared him, perhaps more because of his own presumptions, rather than the kind of people they actually were, and the devastation that leaves its remnants on the face of a man who finally faces the reality of which he had played an ignorant but vicious part. Mr. Hirani has able to make a film that tells you stories that could disturb you in more ways than one. Yet, he has managed to make you smile at the end of it. What else, could I have asked for?

Institutionalisation of anything, is in a way limiting its possibilities from being taken to the stretches that could  changed the world. But just like most things that govern us in our civilized society, it is also a necessary evil. But institutionalizing education, is perhaps defying the cause of education itself, irrespective of the necessity of its evil. And therefore someone in a black sherwani with a pretentious rose sticking out of his breast pocket would give an articulate solution in perfect English on TED, saying: “We should change the system, within the system.” And changing the system within the system does not depend on rule books, it requires human beings. And therefore, that teacher who makes his students believe that everything is possible in this mad manic world becomes so valuable a person in today’s society. For when that teacher sees a student consistently fail while answering the questions set by someone who is more or less invisible, he understands that the student probably, was never meant to take that examination.

3 Idiots hardly had such a teacher. Yet, it somehow managed to create the presence of an invisible being, who in our subconscious minds was telling us what exactly was the right thing to do. It took us to a life where we used to wish for such a teacher so desperately every time we failed in a subject that we never got and were made to believe that we were weak. A life where a two digit number on a dreaded mark sheet, became the ultimate weapon, and excuse for intimidation. Where someone took a permanent marker, and drew a line dividing what was correct and what wasn’t, without letting us spare a thought about what was correct, and what wasn’t. For sparing a thought, unfortunately came in the wrong side of that same division.

Bollywod is perhaps going through its rebellious teenage time of its life. Thinking, rule breaking, albeit with slight fear, little amateur, little stupid even, but with lots and lots of promise, of a really shimmering future.

And what else could I have asked for?