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Friday, August 03, 2007 4.25 am IST Directors are an insecure lot. In fact I feel that most of us in the film business suffer from a great sense of insecurity. To some it is the insecurity of sustaining a livelihood. To some it is the insecurity of sustaining fame. To some it is the…
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(first published on passionforcinema.com, Dec 15, 2008) The last schedule of my new film is fast approaching. The office is like a fish market. I feel like the most important person on earth. The very next instant I feel small and insignificant. I am a bundle of contradictions. Production staff scurrying around with reams of…
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Screaming outside my hotel room. A restless night. Culminating. In helpless screams. Of unknown people. Anguished. Full of unrest. Strangers. With disparate identities. With or without homes. With or without family. Strangely restless souls. Put together. By an ignorant hotel manager. On the same floor. Or is it. My imagination. Going wild. Wallowing. In sympathy.…
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I sit by the bar. Near the busy street. People pass me by. As I watch cars speed past. Leaving blurred trails. Of different colors. Red. Blue. Green. Amber. Diffused. Transient. One trail. Makes way. For another. Everything passes. The cars. The lights. The trails. The past. Life. The trails get muddled. They merge…
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Dear Bombay, Sorry my love for writing this random letter to you. I just want to tell you that I love you. I want to tell you that I am sorry my love. I am sorry my love. I left you. I was angry. I was dejected. I was frustrated. I was hurt. I was…
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Longing is punishment. Yearning is torture. Unleashed by forces. Beyond our control. Motivated by a concept. Called love. Fueled by a nuisance. Called lust. Controlled by a demon. Called passion. I yearn for you. Long to be with you. Dream about us. Remember what was. Imagine what could be. Unable to endure. What is. Without…
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Disgusting. The world I live in. Despicable. The people I know. Abominable. Me. Because I inhabit this world. Because I waste time with these people. Spewing shit from the mouth. Carrying venom in the mind. Shit. Filth. Dirt. All around. Maybe I should stick to whisky. Maybe I should go back to my dirty room.…
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Honking. Left. Right. Centre. Top. Bottom. Inside. Outside. Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk. The sound. Of a restless city. Its agitated soul. Raped. Molested. Abused. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The voice. Of the cities soul. Honk. Honk. The moan. After the fuck.
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I hate the past. But I still cannot help looking back. Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar is perhaps the most bittersweet experience of my life. A film whose highs and lows began way before it even started. Sometime in August 1997 music baron Gulshan Kumar was brutally killed by unidentified assailants. There were many unsuccessful…
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This is an amazingly simple recipe that I have adapted from an original mutton recipe. It is easy to make and is truly delicious. It tickles the palate and gets the digestive system really stimulated (in a good way!) Ingredients 1 kg Chicken 12-15 Green Cardamoms (Elaichi) 2 Bay Leaves 5 Medium Onions, chopped 5…
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Hansal Mehta – Filmmaker | Director | Writer | Official Website 