127 hours

Aron Ralston’s story cannot but leave you untouched somewhere deep inside. 127 hours is an attempt to tell that story in the form of a movie, and it is magnificent. The movie takes you along with Aron as he does all the things that lead to his fateful entrapment in the Blue John Canyon; it connects you with Aron, ignites a compassion for him, as good art must do. The only thing I would say about the movie is that you should watch it. This is not meant to be a review of the movie, how well it was directed or how taut the screenplay was etc. It should suffice to say that everything about the movie had the stamp of class, the assured work of artists at their creative zenith.

I wish to explore the story itself, and try to understand it better. Aron was an experienced mountaineer, a man who left his job to pursue his passion for mountain climbing. His confessions in the movie as well as some cursory research on the web show that it did not just give him a kick but also helped him feel less insecure and anxious, gave him a unique identity he craved. He used to be self-centered, a loner by choice, someone not quite sure what life meant to him. He was a fine guy, just a little lost. The great American dream probably left him in the lurch, as it continues to do to young people enamoured of its great materialistic benefits not just in America but all over the world where pernicious American influence has struck at the root. The problem with the dream is not so much what it represents but what it leaves out. By emphasizing the individual and his achievements and underestimating the value of love, compassion and community, it creates a rift so deep that someone falling in it has little chance of getting out. Such a society creates habitual neurotics, driven by a mad need to get ahead lest they be left behind. It is not difficult to see how people caught up in such a situation should feel worthless and agitated about their existence. Isn’t this happening in the cities of India too, among the ambitious middles classes clamouring to squeeze ahead of their neighbours and peers, with little knowledge of the price that would have to be paid? The irony is that this is the land that has for millennia known how to live with change and somehow retain its basic characteristics, succeeded in absorbing the forces that threatened to tear the fabric of continuity apart. Perhaps I am worrying without a reason, and the Indian soul still retains its timelessness. I hope I am wrong on that count, but all evidence around suggests otherwise.

But back to Aron’s story now. So he went through different stages that having to survive in the face of grave danger takes you through. He panicked first, feverishly trying to get himself free. Then he saw the futility of it and tried to think a way out of it, marshalling carefully all that he had to maximize their utility. But he could not get free quickly enough, and dark thoughts must have gone through his mind. He probably remembered all the good times, his parents and loved ones. Then he saw how he had been with others; it is amazing how little attention we pay to how we are when we are busy living our lives. Self-criticism is all too difficult for people I suppose, while the inertia of habit is easy to maintain. He realized he had been insensitive, uncaring and thankless, all because he was so self-centered. The love of his parents and others probably made him go on, and helped him see clearly in that narrow, dim canyon what really matters. Of course, the survival instinct, the spirit of life made him endure as well, but it was the power of love that carried him through. It is through such experiences that humans learn about life. The only truth that exists in this world has love underlying it. Philosophical discourses on the meaning of life will never get us to the truth; the only way we are going to understand something is by living and trading in love. So what does it mean to be famous and have so much money? Nothing if you have no love. And it is not just love for people that love exists, but also for what you do. If Aron still continues to hike and climb, it is because he loves everything about it, and no longer needs to prove to himself that he’s worth his existence. It is something I can identify with very closely too.

Dreams that a new India has

India is playing in the Asian cup of football after a gap of almost 30 years. They are there because the Asian federation decided that a traditionally weak football nation should get a chance at the cup so as to boost the game there, not because they have qualified like other teams. But this is not about football in India, though I have a passion for the game. This is about the India of today which yearns for the greatness that, in its mind, defined the imagined ever-land of ancient India since the dawn of history. Whether there was one India for most of history is not the point; the continuum in shared history and culture in the sub-continent is enough to bind all of its inhabitants into this dream. But how does this expectation matter on a football pitch? How could you explain 10000 out of 12000 in a stadium in Doha screaming for a team that was so obviously out of its class? Only the fact that Indians so desperately seek the mantle of greatness that has eluded them for so long but which remains etched in some remote corner of the collective memory. And this is an invisible strand that runs through the country, at least the part that can think beyond ensuring they have a meal to eat. Back to the Asian Cup; though this particular team was not gifted, apart from one or two individuals, yet they did not lack motivation. Their flaws were just as glaring as their complete commitment on the field. Those players who made football their life in spite of the lowly status of sports – apart from Cricket, of course - in India and the utter callousness of administrators and lack of opportunities were not going to be deterred by the odds. They fought hard, and while the game reminded me of the way our cricket teams used to be mauled a decade or so ago for a while, I realized that these players would not surrender. That spirit was not something associated with those cricket teams of past. But then India has also changed in the last decade or so.

We have gradually begun to not just hope but to expect. The insensitivity of government to the ordinary citizen that so long subdued most has been assuaged by the greater opportunities available after India opened up to the world. To a large number of Indians, this still does not matter. But to a significant portion, their dreams for the nation and for themselves reflected in it are no longer a desire never to be fulfilled; it is in the realms of possibility. When the destiny of a people is in their hands and their spirit is robust, anything seems possible. However, as the result of the match showed, there is much work to be done everywhere. Sports may not seem a significant part of the change that must come, but its importance should not be underestimated. Playing sports is a wonderful way for kids to learn the lessons of life and it is also a pursuit that provides much joy not just to the sportsman but also the sports lover. It binds people together and gives people a chance to indulge their passions constructively. There are so many more reasons that sports should become an integral part of our culture, and perhaps it will. But the point to note is that the government will only play an enabling role or even a non-interfering role in the Change to come in India. It will be private enterprise and resourcefulness that will see the dreams of so many people come closer to being realized. Already, the signs are visible. There is a general mood of greater optimism and assurance at least among urban Indians, though it is tempered by the occasional reminder of governmental ineptitude and callousness as in the major scams unearthed last year. For all this promise to be fulfilled, the government must know that it needs only to enable and not obstruct. Whether the system of government and the complexities of Indian society which give rise to the wild disparity among the rulers will allow this to happen easily is the crux of the matter. Will this nation be able to absorb all the dissidents within and make them partners in the New Story That Will Be Written while ensuring that the wretchedness and hopelessness of debilitating poverty is removed? It is clear that the private citizen will have to do a lot more to make it come true; it will not happen by simply wishing for change, but by creating that change from within.