Tag Archives: bombay

independence day from/this india/i will miss this/india: photos from pune (the national film archive of india and the film and television institute of india) and bombay

dear readers,

i got a letter from the government the other day, opened it and in it, it said they were suckaz. that’s a shout out to public enemy and tricky.

this is a post from bombay/what is independence day/to the u.s. of a. i don’t know. but when there are no words, there are images. there is graffiti on the wall at the film and television insitute of india, it reads: cinema is truth at 24 fps/frames per second.

graffiti mural at the film and tv institute of india in pune

the charter which decreed the creation of the national film archives and the film and tv institute of india was created in the early 1950’s, around the same time india gained independence from the british.

just off film institute road in pune lies the indian film archives


though the decree which planted the seed for the NFAI and FTII wasn’t followed until a decade later, in the early 1960’s, it remains true that india’s post-colonial political sovereignty was imagined in tandem with an explicitly strengthening embrace of our cinematic art, a distinct cultural legacy and continuing gift to the world.

the film and tv institute of india got mad buses peeking out from the banyan tree jungle of the campus acres, formerly the studio grounds of prabhat studios, one of india's most og film studios

here are some images from my independent eyes to yours via bustling bombay and nearly perfect pune. enjoy the ride, because it is yours, after all.

bombay taxi: shot on my way to the club out the vardala train station

proud to be a woman: buying bindi's in pune

the original kinkos: printing press at night with bicycles (pune)

projection booth: national film archive of india (pune)

prabhat studio door: film and tv institute of india (pune)

original prabhat studio lights: film and tv institute of india (pune)

bombay fam: me, my two cousin brothers, their wives and kids

stay tuned for more, which i will send out the next time i have a good internet connect.

love,
roopa
the political poet

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from delhi: not malls nor metro soften these mean, glean streets

dear readers,

delhi is wind blown today, and the air is white with fine dust. they say it’s blowing in from the deserts of rajasthan. the sandy silt hovers, covers, i can feel its grit in my mouth, it has turned brown the crevices of this black keyboard, it is on my fingertips as i type. saturday, the my lil cousin brother sweetu and i head to jaipur together, from there, udaipur to visit my ailing and eldest mausi ji. both of these ancient cities are drying out, the heat has got all the lakes lifted back into the sky, they say there’s a water shortage, im tryna hydrate as much as possible in the here and now.

any bombay or bangalore readers, holler at me, im going to be in your city soon, lets jam together, it would be a blessing to rock with you on the microphone checka, one2checka.

bout to go to the cinema with my mausi ji. ate a killer mango last night. oh, these simple pleasures.

more later,
roopa

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