Of Loss, Longing, and Love. (A Movie Review)

A work of art takes time. In conceptualisation, in creation and execution. A work of art asks for time to indulge in it, notice and admire. When one considers movies too as works of art (when assaulted by ‘Animals’ and ‘Beasts’, one wonders, of course), many of the classics may not have been crowdpleasers or favourites when released. They’ve over time become cult classics. 

Last weekend, I happened to watch, Sabar Bonda, a movie by Rohan Kanwade, his first feature length movie. Several friends had messaged me to go watch it because the movie had won some prestigious awards, and because Rohan is known to many of them personally. I too have met him, at a film festival in Bengaluru many years ago, when one of his first movies was being screened. 

A few other friends too joined in and we all set out to watch the movie - a morning show, because the movie had found a limited audience because of the niche audience it might attract. The show was almost full, a surprise. 

The movie begins with the demise of the father of Anand, the protagonist. Anand is reluctant to head to the village where his father’s last rites are to be performed. Only his mother’s admonitions make him reluctantly head there. He has to stay there for a full ten days and complete all the rites before he can head back to the city, Mumbai. Why is he reluctant and what is he that he fears, and what transpires in those ten days while he’s at his native village forms the rest of the story. 

The film is shot at a leisurely, languorous pace.  It’s unhurried, and yet not indulgent. The place, people, their lives, and daily conversations all feel very real. One does not feel that one is watching a movie, but is a spectator in someone’s life as it unfolds over those many days. Everyone in the movie gives their best to the role, and makes the movie worth the watch. 

Anand has already turned 30, and every relative has the same question. “When are you getting married?” He cannot out himself or his sexual orientation to his relatives for the fear of their reaction towards his mother. He can stay away from them forever, but can she, he asks her. His parents have known that he’s gay, and they have largely come to accept him. However, they have unstated worries - will he find someone for himself, after we are gone? 

Balya is a childhood friend of Anand in the village. As they reconnect, old memories come to the fore and sparks rekindle. Is this just a physical desire because they both yearn for a tender touch, or does it have a future beyond the boundaries of class, caste, and educational divide? 

In essence, Sabar Bonda is a love story that unspools in times of melonchoky and loss. I was reminded of the 2015 Kannada movie, Thithi, which was built around a death. While the templates are similar, the narratives and the perspectives are different. While Thithi - with its broader canvas and multiple threads - celebrated life and had an irreverent vibe to it, Sabar Bonda is melancholic; it delves deeper into a person’s psyche and explores deep-seated emotions, and insecurities. 

Rohan Kanwade shows extreme control over his subject and delivers a winsome film; it is a love story that transcends genders and sexual orientation. And, as I said before, the performances add gravitas to the proceedings, and keep you rooted. 

There are very few holes to pick in the entire movie. If any, they possibly can be attributed to the shoestring budget the movie might’ve had - like the sound recording or the background music. I also wonder why the movie has an ‘Adult’ certificate even though it has no nudity (barring one scene, which barely shows any skin, and even without it the movie would still work well) or foul language, or violence. The only grouse I had when I watched was, the protagonists do not seem to kiss convincingly, and their lack of chemistry (or hesitation to perform gender non-conforming scenes) shows.  

My verdict in short for the movie: the awards it’s gathering are well justified. Do not miss; go watch it. This movie is truly a work of art.  A special word of appreciation for those who have backed Rohan in ensuring the movie finds mainstream release too. 

Cactus Pears

Setting the Records Straight!

Recently a news item made the rounds for all the right or the wrong reasons. Addressing a bunch of school children, a popular politician/minister, asked the question, “Who was the first person to go into space?”

The children screamed in unison, “Neil Armstrong!”

The politician corrected them, “No, it was our very own Hanuman!”

The children too were incorrect. But, that’s besides the point, and let’s come back to this a bit later. 

Based on this above episode, the Guinness Book of Records is planning to revise the records held in the books! Accordingly, the Newly Recognised Firsts are as follows:

The first person to travel abroad (from India):

Sita Mata. Albeit she was forced to. 

Non-Indian category:

Ravana. 

The first Indian to voluntarily travel abroad:

Hanuman (again)!

The first person to fly a plane:

Kubera, the god of riches owned the first ever plane, called the Pushpak. He gave Rama and Sita a ride back to Ayodhya after the Lanka war. The plane was built by his brother, Maya. 

First Nuclear Explosion

Was carried out at the end of the Kurukshetra war in the Mahabharata. Ashwatthama detonated a nuclear bomb to exterminate the Pandavas. A counter bomb was fired by Arjuna, but was disarmed by him on advice of Krishna. Ashwatthama’s bomb couldn’t be defused - possibly because it was based on Russian technology and Ashwatthama hadn’t mastered all the complicated keys; it had to be taken on by Krishna’s air defence system with minimum damages.

The second nuclear explosion happened at the beginning of the Vedic period; this ended the glorious civilisation of the Indus Valley, and even took out a river (Saraswati) from its existence. 

First World War

Happened several millennia ago, with india as its epicentre, involving multiple nations, some siding with the Pandavas, and the rest with the Kauravas. 

First test tube baby:

According to careful study of history, the Kauravas were the first test tube babies. Gandhari was the first such mother. 

First surrogate mother:

Madri was the first. Kunti was tired after having given birth to several babies, including one clandestinely. So, she transferred the onus to Madra to conceive the Ashwini twins - Nakul and Sahadev. 

I wonder if the episode of the birth of Shanmugam predates the Bharata. If it does, then the Krittikas were the first surrogate mothers, who lent their womb to Siva and Parvati for the birth of Skanda, the commander in chief of the gods’ army. 

First children through sperm donors

Dasaratha’s sons. Despite marrying three women, Dasaratha couldn’t produce any progeny. Only then it dawned upon him that the trouble may not lie elsewhere but in him. So, he made a sage donate his sperms, which his wives happily accepted and produced four children - all male at that!

First dancer 

Siva, who else! The one who performed the cosmic dance taught the moves - after he calmed down and agreed to marry again - to Parvati, who now is considered the patron goddess of dance. 

First beauty queen

Lakshmi (no, not Rati). She rose out of the Milky Ocean in absolute glamour, mesmerising everyone around. 

First drag queen

Vishnu, hands down. He donned the form of Mohini and bewitched the demons, and ensured Amrit went only to gods. Then he killed a demon, Bhasmasura in the same form by making him burn himself. She seduced Siva in the same avatar, resulting in the birth of Ayyappa. Even back in those days, none could resist the charms of a drag queen. RuPaul, please take note!

Vishnu influenced Arjuna too to don the drag and live as Brihannala for a year. 

First transgender person

Shikhandi. Successfully transitioned from female to male (was known as Amba before transition). Bhishma was jealous of the transition as he too secretly wanted to transition, but had grown too old to try.  

First Olympics 

Was held in Hastinapur, the capital of the Kaurava kingdom. Karna emerged as the champion of champions in this edition, besting Arjuna, who ran away. 

First ever radio announcement

Happened in mathura, when the gods announced that Kansa would be killed in future by his own nephew! 

First Quiz

Featured the Pandavas at the lake. Yudhishtira won the contest. Yama was the quiz master. This original contest has given rise to so many contests in TV today including squid games. If Vyasa was alive he could sue them all and be the richest man alive! 

As and when more facts tumble out of our great history, the Guinness Records will undergo further revision. The Committee has assured. 

She Said He Heard…

A view of Hilsa 

We are into the last leg of our Kailash Yatra. Despite concerns and doubts, and a lot of conflicting information, we manage to start off from Taklakot (Purang, in China). Having reached China-Nepal border at Hilsa, we rest at a small hotel named, Moksha, and await our turn for the chopper. 

Hilsa is a small village and has barely a handful of houses that turn into home stays for the Kailash yatris during the Kailash Yatra season. These village doesn’t even have metalled roads. Hotel Moksha is a new building that has come up recently, and a couple of other hotels too have come up. These are pretty basic in terms of the facilities they offer. Our aim is to have a lunch here and take off to Simikot. From there, the journey would be to Nepalgunj.  

Many other Yatris that were there begin to leave, and some new ones arrive. Most of them are staying put as their choppers aren’t scheduled for another day (at least). 

Some yatris that have arrived at the place we are resting realise Moksha isnt their resting place (yet) and they need to go to another hotel. So, the patriarch shouts orders to one of the younger ones to find out which is their hotel. The girl who runs the establishment finds out and tells this group that it’s ’Snow Line’. 

The man and his fellow travellers collect their small bags to leave. As they’re leaving, the old man wonders aloud. “Why is the hotel named Slow? Do things move at snail’s pace here?”, in Hindi! 

Falling Apart!

A dull ache in his shoulder, a new twinge in his knee - he felt like he was falling apart. This was supposed to be his peak, the moment he finally cashed in on years of work. The modelling gigs, the ad campaigns; they were his for the taking, and they were paying off big time. But the mirror, once his ally, now reflected a stranger. A tired man with dark circles under his eyes, his smile strained from clenching his jaw against the pain. He hadn't listened when his body whispered, and now it was screaming. He needed a lifeline, a sympathetic ear, and there was only one person he trusted.

He called her to meet at a sleek new cafe downtown, all minimalist decor and the strong scent of burnt sugar and espresso. She was a welcome island of calm in his storm, stirring a latte with deliberate grace.

"It started as just an ache in the shoulder," he began, "but now it's a frozen shoulder."

"Hmm," she hummed, not looking up. "The full-body equivalent of a computer freeze."

"It's worse than that. I also have sciatica, and... an ACL tear in my knee."

She finally looked up, her expression a mix of concern and dry amusement. "Dude, you're becoming a one-man hospital ward. I hope you're at least doing something about it."

"I'm in intense physiotherapy, and I've started swimming lessons. Surgeon's orders."

She smiled, a genuine crinkle around her eyes. "Good."

"Good? I'm not seeing any results!" he groaned, running a hand over his face. "As if all that wasn't enough, my tooth enamel is gone, so I have to see a dentist now, too. And then there are the migraines..."

He trailed off, listing his ailments like a shopping list for a tough laundry day. She set her cup down slowly, her gaze fixed on him. For a long, silent moment, she just stared, no longer smiling.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, suddenly defensive. "I'll overcome all of this."

She leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm not feeling bad for you. I'm just thinking that with all the advancements in AI, you're the perfect candidate to be converted into a bionic man.”

He laughed, more sound than mirth. "Oh, come on, don't be so harsh. There are still parts of me that are alive and kicking well."

"I know," she shot back, a teasing grin spreading across her face. "But with the advancements, you may not need them."

He feigned offense. "I meant my brain, silly!"

She lifted her hands in surrender and chuckled. "I meant the same thing."

Hundred Days: Of Hurdles, Hurrah, and Hope!

Do I have it in me?

For the seventh year in a row, I did the only thing a sane person wouldn't: I signed up for the HDOR virtual running challenge. For those of you who don't know, it's a hundred consecutive days of running at least 2km. My track record? The last six years, I've managed to run somewhere between 0 and 72 days, never consecutively. You'd think I'd learn, but here we are again, a glutton for punishment and a master of unfulfilled athletic dreams.

My family's reaction was less "Go get 'em, champ!" and more "Oh, bless your heart, you're doing this again?" SS wasn’t too pleased. Parents wondered if I needed a visit to the NIMHANS! I showed them my annoyance instead of understanding the concern in their questions. Trust me to refuse to accept sane advice.

My running journey started rather late, in my 40s. The first time I ever ran any distance was in 2014, right after a surgery on my right knee. The doctor had said a knee replacement might be on the horizon in about ten years. My thought process was, "Why mope over this? Instead, why can't I just wear the knee completely away if it needs to be replaced?" Thus began my journey. From struggling to run even a kilometer, I progressed to running half marathons and more, facing plenty of hurdles along the way.

Along with the many highs of running, there were a few spectacular lows. More knee issues, some foot-related, and a few ankle injuries. Yet, my desire to run didn't diminish (and the doctor's prediction, thankfully, didn't come true). Add another knee surgery in 2023, along with some back and shoulder issues, and it’s no wonder my folks weren’t thrilled with my decision to run for 100 straight days.

The very first day, my shiny new sports watch—a gift from a family friend—staged a mutiny. I connected it to Strava, ran my 2km, and the uploads were refused by the HDOR app. A flurry of emails and panicked re-reads of the user manual followed, but nothing worked. So, I did what any sane person would: I ran another 2km that same day after disconnecting the watch. My first day was a double, a sign of things to come.

Not many days into the challenge, my car was involved in an accident. A bike rider came straight towards us and rammed into the car. I barely missed getting injured as the bike hit the door on my side! My next hurdle came during a work trip to Agra. The lazy me thought I'd squeeze in time somewhere along the way. But when we had to drive down from Delhi late in the evening, I found myself in a predicament. I tried completing the walk at the airport, but Strava decided it wasn't a fan of the airport tarmac and refused to record a single meter, despite having a GPS lock. So there I was, a man on a mission, sprinting laps around a parking lot just as my colleagues' flight was landing. Nothing says 'professionalism' like sweating profusely outside an airport terminal.

The biker rammed into and flew over the car!

The next day in Agra, after a long work event, I found myself in a different kind of predicament. We finished the day at work past 9pm. The team, including my boss and several dignitaries, was waiting for me at dinner. My phone was buzzing with 15 missed calls. I, however, was on the run... literally. I'd found a street to log my kilometers, dodging stray dogs and hoping a car wouldn't turn me into a human speed bump. Sorry, a five-star meal can wait. My daily run, and the HDOR gods, could not.

The Delhi trip was a test of willpower. The heat was relentless, the humidity was a soggy blanket, and I had the worst stomach bug of my life. A dozen bathroom breaks later, I can confidently say I was running on empty, but I was still running. 

Gritting the teeth and bearing!

Then, the Bengaluru rains arrived. On some days, I was completely drenched and soaked to the bone. A few other days, I walked gingerly with an umbrella, hoping not to slip and fall and become a cautionary tale for runners everywhere. Plus, one had to be wary of creepy-crawlies!

A giant forest scorpion in my path!

My life became a comical series of excuses and desperate maneuvers. On a trip to Vellore for a wedding, after the rites lasted late into the night, I went for my walk and run, tired body notwithstanding. Not a morning person, I often found myself out after dark. This meant facing street dogs and their unwavering aversion to anyone running in their territory. Over time, I've become a dog lover (thanks to adopting one back in 2013), and yet, I carried a small stick with me as the campus is usually deserted late at night.

As the days stacked up, I realized it wasn't enough to simply run. To keep my aging body from staging a full-scale revolt, I had to add in strength training. My evenings became a glamorous routine of foam rolling and groaning like an old man trying to get off a couch. My old injuries flared up, leaving me so sore some nights that I struggled to get any sleep. Yet, I persisted.

The biggest hurdle to the challenge came when my uncle’s health deteriorated, and we all had to rush to our hometown. Squeezing time between the hospital and home wasn't easy. Soon, he passed away (a relief, as he had been ill for a long time), making it even more of a challenge to complete the run on that day. As a pallbearer, I was not supposed to step out alone. But I had a challenge to finish. So, I did what any athlete-in-mourning would do: I snuck away to log my miles, unbeknownst to anyone. It was possibly the most discreet, and morbidly-driven, run of my life.

When the challenge began, my only goal was to complete it, come what may. As the days progressed, I got greedy. I wanted to average at least 4km a day. Then I wanted the time to be less than 8:45 min/km. The biggest of all? I wanted to finish in the Top 1000. This meant averaging more than 5km a day. In my best running years, I had not run 1000km, and now I was trying to complete over 500km in 100 days! What would happen to my fragile joints?

The 100th day of the challenge fell on my significant other’s birthday. I’d planned a surprise party for SS, which meant I was a little, shall we say, pre-occupied. So, with guests arriving and cake on the table, I laced up my shoes and ran. I was greeted with cheers, not for finishing, but for finally coming back inside and not making everyone wait for a birthday toast.

As friends wait impatiently for my return!

The boy and his cake get the due at last!

The biggest support came from the one who was most concerned; my significant other. Many days, SS joined me, even though it was difficult to keep pace. On days we weren’t together, there would be a message waiting for me: “Have you done your quota for the day?” My parents weren’t far behind. They’d ask about hydration, stretches, and fatigue. They wouldn’t stop me from stepping out to finish my run, even at 11 at night on some days—an absolute rarity!

Support of SS has been the biggest strength!

The challenge started on April 26, 2025, and finished on August 3, 2025. My first day’s run was a mere 2.1km. By the time I completed it—against all odds, most of them personal and physical—I had run 603km. I ran 10k in a day on nine separate occasions and 5k on 68 days. And, yes, I finished within the Top 1000, at 784th! 

I am not competitive. Throw a gauntlet at me, and I will most possibly walk away. And yet, I had done something I had never done before. I’ll carry this pride for quite a few days to come. I may not do this challenge again, but one never knows. For someone who hadn’t run a 10k (but for one occasion) after the COVID days, to do it nine times in 100 days is beyond ecstasy. The timings may be awful, but I'll take that any day over not being able to run at all.

I have one more goal: to run a full marathon again before I hang up my running shoes. I do not know if I have it in me. But I can surely hope, right?

Goal Accomplished!

Is it a bird….