Lost in Translation – A Bittersweet Blend of Sweetness and Sardonic Humor

Ah, as this marks my inaugural delve into writing about cinema, I’ve opted for the cautious route. Choosing to analyze such a profoundly lauded film is simple, as it encompasses myriad themes—midlife crises, desolation, and more. However, rather than adopt the conventional tone of a film critic, I prefer to delve into the experiential journey of watching the movie.

My first encounter with Lost in Translation occurred during my undergraduate days, when the influence of social media was minimal, and life unfolded leisurely. I found myself captivated by the themes it explored. Back then, my personal lens colored my perceptions. Rather than seeing myself in Bob Harris, the waning movie star, I was preoccupied with navigating my journey of belonging. For instance, when he recalls the birth of his child as an extremely daunting experience, I couldn’t relate to him.

On the other hand, I could connect more with Charlotte’s character, a woman in her early twenties, newlywed, grappling with life’s complexities. The movie’s tagline, ‘Everyone wants to be found’ mirrored my sentiments at that age. I yearned for recognition, yet I felt invisible. Despite my deep love for books and movies, melancholy lingered throughout my teenage years just like the central characters. Reflecting now, I ponder whether Charlotte and Bob would ever cross paths in today’s world. Perhaps she would have become lost in the whirlwind of social media, gradually fading into obscurity. She belonged to an era where social connection was more prevalent and yet she couldn’t contemplate it.

Over time, memories of this masterpiece faded away from my mind. But then, fate intervenes as I come across an Instagram reel featuring Lost in Translation. There, I stumbled upon the unforgettable karaoke scene where Charlotte, belts out, “I’m special, so special, I gotta have some of your attention, give it to me,” exuding her quirky charm with a pink hairdo.
It’s remarkable how a college graduate, having completed all her studies, yearns for this specific kind of attention, a type that cannot be found elsewhere.

Revisiting this classic, I found myself drawn closer to Bob this time. His portrayal as a middle-aged man with the quintessential family setup, grappling with a disconnection from his wife made me rethink. Despite feeling entitled to his children’s support, they failed to reciprocate. It’s a poignant reminder that in our digitally connected world, the profound human touch often eludes us amidst the flurry of phone calls and messages, highlighting the paradox of isolation in an age of constant communication.

Where do I find myself after all these years? After dedicating countless hours to reading books and striving to make sense of my desires in my youth, I realize that I don’t long for attention now. Instead, a feeling of not belonging slowly seeps into my mind whenever I contemplate my place in this world. Reading Sartres’ Nausea has been a relief. At a major point in the novel, Sartre writes ‘I hadn’t any right to exist. I had appeared by chance, I existed like a stone, a plant, a microbe. My life grew in a haphazard way and in all directions.’ I find it amusing that even when I type out quotes directly from the book, autocorrect tries to intervene. It’s a reflection of our daily reality, I suppose. We often overlook the fact that while order isn’t a necessity in our lives, purpose certainly is. I require a platform for expression, but that doesn’t imply I should be under external control, not even from AI. And nowadays that expression is waning due to the pressure of external norms.

In every movie, there’s a pivotal moment—a revelation of truth. I see it as indispensable; without it, the movie would cease to exist. For me, it’s when Charlotte witnesses a traditional Japanese marriage procession. As she watches the couple holding hands, it encapsulates her deepest desires. Throughout the film, her sense of being lost and disconnected in a foreign land is palpable, but what exacerbates it further is her disconnect with her newlywed husband. She yearns for the simple affection she witnesses in that newly married couple—a longing shared by us all, isn’t it?

Garam Masala – In the Quest for the Spice Queen

Certain joys in life can remain unmatched. Ages ago, meeting the Queen (I imagined Mario to wed her, hence the deviation from ‘princess’) at the end of a Super Mario game was the ultimate thrill. A few years later, it was the chessboard that brought me joy. The moment my pawns yielded to the mighty forces, I rejoiced at the fiery attacks unleashed by my black queen on the board. However, my understanding of a queen took a hit after reading Hilary Mantel’s ‘Wolf Hall’. Little did I know that I would encounter a greater challenge – someone much closer to home, right in my own culinary kitchen, searching for the perfect Garam Masala – the Queen of the Indian cuisine. If her mood isn’t right, she can be fierce, tormenting your taste buds. But if handled correctly, she can be sweet. She holds the power to work magic, yet if she fails, all fail. In my never-ending quest for my beloved, I penned a poem dedicated to her.

Are you going to KR Market Fair?
Cinnamon, clove, bay leaf, and cumin,
Recall the secret once shared,
If not, seek out someone who holds it dear.

Urge her to calm her restless spirit,
(I yearn for your presence by my side).
A pinch of ginger can transform everything,
(Infusing biryani with fiery zest).
How can I reach you?
(Come back and let me reign).
All you do is mix and grind,
(Yet your mood remains elusive).

Will you be at the KR Market Fair?
Cinnamon, clove, bay leaf, and cumin,
Reflect on your granny who confided the secret,
Once shared, never to be revealed again...

The reason behind selecting Scarborough Fair as a parody is not to be irreverent, but rather to draw a reference illustrating that crafting the perfect Garam masala is seemingly more daunting than the tasks outlined in the song. If you’re willing, I implore you, if you possess the knowledge, please share the secret to this nearly insurmountable feat. I’ll be forever grateful to you, even until the end of time. Feel free to offer suggestions in the comments below.

P.S. – This poem was penned in the aftermath of the frustration of once again failing to achieve the perfect Biryani, with my queen bearing the brunt of the blame.

As you can see the colour and texture of the Biryani played it’s part but yet without the perfect queen it was a disaster in flavour town

Musings of a Medical Teacher in the Modern Era

For Kiddu, for reminding me why I need to teach.

After nearly two years on my path as a lecturer in a medical college, I sense it’s the moment to pause and ponder. Have the past two years been fulfilling? Undoubtedly. Will the future hold the same? I’m a tad bit skeptical. Comparing my current position as a lecturer in a medical college to my previous roles at a research institute and an NGO, it’s the least lucrative financially. Yet, even if I’m not directly involved, the sense of fulfillment derived from witnessing someone’s growth in the medical field keeps me motivated. If we examine the principles of Ikigai, the Japanese concept of ‘Reason to live,’ I find myself squarely in the intersecting realm of ‘What you love’ and ‘What you are good at,’ leaning strongly towards Passion. However, there’s a downside to this approach. Ikigai focuses solely on the individual’s fulfillment without considering how society perceives one’s pursuit of passion. While purists may urge boldness and single-minded dedication, the reality, especially in teaching, is quite different. Navigating today’s students’ intricacies and inner thoughts is a constant battle. I’m still grappling with what truly motivates them. Sometimes, engaging in conversations about academics or life feels like drifting without direction, leaving me feeling more lost than the students themselves. Moreover, at times I encounter a group of students who seem to lack strong opinions, adding another challenging layer. It’s like being in a maze of complexity when people withhold their thoughts and feelings.

Then what keeps me going? To understand what is my role as a teacher I remind myself of Kahlil Gibrans famous verses on teaching

No man can reveal to you aught but that
which already lies half asleep in the dawn-
ing of your knowledge.
    The teacher who walks in the shadow of
the temple, among his followers, gives not
of his wisdom but rather of his faith and
his lovingness.
    If he is indeed wise he does not bid you
enter the house of his wisdom, but rather
leads you to the threshold of your own
mind.
- Kahlil Gibran

This is what maintains my sanity during teaching sessions. My understanding stems from interactions with people and extensive reading. Now, my responsibility lies in conveying this knowledge rather than internalizing it. My sole focus is on passing the beacon of enlightenment. I understand that not everyone will resonate with my perspective; rather their outlook on life will largely be shaped by their family and social circles. In this journey, I walk alongside them, carrying the torch yet never positioning myself ahead of them.

Teaching, particularly at the undergraduate level, has its drawbacks. The repetition of topics can feel mundane, prompting questions about the purpose of such endeavors. However, each student represents a unique individual, a fresh opportunity to impart knowledge and inspire growth. Personally, I struggle with remembering names, especially with a batch of 150 students. Yet, I can boast of possessing a talent for recalling their achievements and aspirations, which enriches my teaching experience.

Reflecting on my journey, I realize that the essence of effective teaching lies not solely in the subject matter but in the way it is conveyed. While I may not boast exceptional academic prowess, I take pride in cherishing the intricacies of my students’ lives. Whether it’s acknowledging Ms. X’s beloved dog, Shero, or recognizing Mr. Y’s visit to Pondicherry, these details matter. Ms. A’s prowess in the long jump, Ms. B’s fondness for cheesecakes, and Mr. Z’s remarkable artistic talent—all contribute to the tapestry of human connection within the classroom.

Some may perceive these anecdotes as mere distractions, but I disagree. They are reminders to our shared humanity, changing the landscape of the educational environment and disrupting monotony. Ultimately, it’s these personal connections and emotions which breathe life into our teaching endeavors, fostering a sense of belonging and rapport among us all.

I also had a short stint teaching online. During this time, I struggled with a fundamental issue: the inability to gauge my students’ reactions. How does one engage with a screen for long periods, completely unaware of the expressions on their students’ faces? I yearn for and thrive on those telltale signs – the expressions of awe, delight, and laughter. These cues fuel my passion and drive, empowering me to deliver my best in the present moment.

I must also acknowledge the profound moments when a student becomes a teacher. Such instances have been gratifying beyond measure. Last year, one of our students made a remarkable painting during a camp that we conducted in rural parts of Bangalore.

What made it even more special was when our department chose it as the cover page for our planner. As a result, I started each day with this painting, and its impact was beyond words. It served as a poignant reminder of my purpose.

The power of imagery to convey profound messages comes to light with this canvas. It captures the essence of a trait that I truly believe in; the importance of listening. As depicted, the student leans attentively toward the elderly woman, patiently waiting to know what matters most to her. Thank you Aditi for this remarkable piece of art, which continues to inspire and resonate with all of us. Indeed, I often utilize this unique painting to introduce the field of Humanities and its significance within the medical stream.

So, what ultimately motivates me? This profession is marked by joy and sorrow, but I believe such experiences are universal, regardless of one’s profession. Then, what sets this profession apart? The torch of wisdom is undeniably fierce. Passing it on can be a heavy responsibility for the teacher, but it yields a lasting impact when embraced correctly. Recently, I came across the book “Tuesdays with Morrie,” and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone in the teaching profession. There’s a quote from the book that particularly resonates with me, shedding light on the essence of why we do what we do.

“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops”

– Henry Adams