I love the colour and taste and customs of much of the Indian culture. I have done for a very long time.
My Dad visited India in his 20's, before he met my Mum. He drove a tour of "The Magic Bus" (I've been told it was a kind of hippy drug addled tour) from England through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan to India. From a very young age he has told my sisters and me stories about the wild and excellent adventure he went on; the food he ate (which he recreated for us on a weekly basis, I have a hardened stomach now and I can handle the hottest curries), the exotic animals he saw, and the beautiful and strange people he met.
My Dad visited India in his 20's, before he met my Mum. He drove a tour of "The Magic Bus" (I've been told it was a kind of hippy drug addled tour) from England through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan to India. From a very young age he has told my sisters and me stories about the wild and excellent adventure he went on; the food he ate (which he recreated for us on a weekly basis, I have a hardened stomach now and I can handle the hottest curries), the exotic animals he saw, and the beautiful and strange people he met.
A few years ago, as so often happens when one gets older, I lost my romantic imagining of the India my Dad had described. Indian cinema is as diverse as it is flamboyant. I am not the biggest fan of Bollywood musicals, I imagine they would make excellent stage productions but on screen they lack empathy for me. Over the last 5 years in particular I've been more inclined to watch dramas and documentaries from the region. For a while now my desire to visit India has been dampened by the stories I've seen. Bandit Queen (1994), directed by Shekhar Kapur, has stuck with me for a while. It is the true story of Phoolan Devi, an Indian woman who was sent to prison for over 10 years and suffered terrible human rights violations but who then became a hardened political activist and politician after her release. Maya (2001), directed by Digvijay Singh, is the story of a young girl who is given over by her family to a group of priests who rape her in a horrific "coming of age" ritual. The story was based on apparently true events which the director wanted to highlight as atrocities within the Hindu religion practiced in the rural areas of India. Slumdog Millionaire (2008), directed by Danny Boyle, is another magnificent film set in India, but it did nothing to wash the cold feeling from my heart.
I know that every country on this earth has it's horrors as well as it's beauties, so when I saw The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, despite it's sometimes exaggerated portrayal of senior citizens and Indian hotel managers, I was a bit relieved to see something more of the soft beauty of India which my Dad had helped me imagine in my youth. Each story told by the magnificent cast lightened my heart and reinvigorated my love of the colour and life of India.
4 out of 5 Stars
With Love
Surgeon Bug
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